


The Punishing

by thebookworm121



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Control, F/M, Forbidden Love, Master/Slave, Masturbation in Shower, Oral Sex, Orgasm, Power Dynamics, Rough Sex, Sexual Slavery, Shower Sex, Slavery, Smut, Submissive Character, Temptation, Vulnerable Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:35:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 50,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21787612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebookworm121/pseuds/thebookworm121
Summary: AU: A rebellion, dubbed The Punishing, up roared in Hermione Granger's second year, expelling all muggle born witches and wizards from school and into captivity. Years later, after experiencing the horrors of slavery to Pureblooded families, who now ruled the Wizarding World, she is bought by the Malfoys for Draco's personal torment.  Hermione is not expecting what she finds...  [O.O.C]
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 54
Kudos: 334





	1. Chapter One

**The Punishing**  
Ch.1

* * *

I stumble, dragging my horrid self, down the corridor with the others. Magical chains bound our wrists, and the muggle-born girls and boys in front and behind me, kept their heads low.

It didn't always used to be this way. Before 1993, I had been accepted into Hogwarts, a school of witchcraft and wizardry, and had entered my second year. My parents didn't possess magic and that made me different to some. I remember being hurt by their comments, but no amount of school yard bullying would have led me to fear _this_.

A rebellion up roared from the pure-blooded witches and wizards to sanction the school and have us divided. I remember that too. Harry and I were cornered off to another section of the school until Dumbledore could reason with the Ministry. Even that didn't last long, and the rebellion demanded more; claiming our impurity would affect their way and their children's way of life and wanted us expelled from learning anything of magic relation. We were thrown from school, only to wind up in the middle of an attack. The Hogwarts train was sent off a cliff into the lake, and the rails blown up. Brooms snapped. Boats sunk. We were trapped.

That's when Lucius Malfoy appeared, side by side with several other prestigious families. He smirked as he unravelled a scroll from the Ministry, approving the removal of muggle born witches and wizards, and they could not return to their homes. I remember being so terrified and tried to find Harry. But he was gone… I looked around at the students, all born of muggle heritage, and we all shed large pools of tears. One by one, they swooped down and grabbed us, thrown into a carriage of other children. We screamed desperately for help, and those who tried to stop them, were imprisoned too.

I dream about that day often. After many years, I struggled to remember everything. I didn't want that. I never wanted to forget my reason to fight.

"Next," the guard moaned. The line shuffled a miserable step forward.

I don't know what ever happened of my mum and dad. Rumour had it that some muggle parents were given the mercy of forgetting their children, having their memories wiped. Others lived with the pain of their children being taken away and couldn't do anything about it. I wondered which fate became of my family. It had been maybe three years since then… I know I was twelve going on thirteen that year, and now I assumed I'd passed my sixteenth at least. Birthdays weren't really a necessity in our new line of work. Or as they called it… The Punishing.

We were being punished, for our existence and ability to control magic from their world. We were reminded of our place daily because of it. When the children were taken away in cages, it had been part of a bigger scheme of the rebellion. To hold us captive in their world as _slaves_ until the last of us die off and our whole generation can be forgotten about.

And here we were. Three-years; whipped into shape and sold off to pure-blooded families to work for them, some to stay long term, and others like me, from one house to the next when your suffering no longer entertained them. I'd been to seven homes. Some mean old ladies to clean their houses, to do household work like cooking and serving, to be a maid, or worse… to be at their sexual demand.

Now, I was prepared to be in the next Auction. Whenever you weren't _wanted_ , as a slave, you were sent here until you were bid off… or to give birth to a bastard and not hours after the delivery, forced to present yourself for the next buyer. Nobody knew what happened to the babies, but we only dread to think of what sick things they were capable of. Yet, it was on the tip of our tongues… _dead_.

Worn by several girls before me, they'd thrown a glittery two piece at me. The top simply being a bra, red and bedazzled with straps reaching up around my neck to draw attention to the chest. Below, a sheer skirt from my waist to the highest part of my thigh. Thin underwear beneath was all that covered my most private areas. Not that I was given the privilege of privacy… I walk out slow and dreading, struggling to move my aching feet in the ridiculous heels. The room was dark, but the set up was so that bidders had secluded booths, ravished with personal entertainment as they watched us come out one by one.

"Turn," a man hissed at me from the wing. He was orchestrating the auction, wanting a high bid rating for his show.

Reluctantly, I stepped in circles, keeping my head up for them to look upon but my eyes down. It showed assertiveness, they said, and we were punished if we were to do so. _Be a pretty girl_ , they told me, _they want submissive girls, innocent and petite. They want to know they can own you_.

I wanted to hurl since they inspected me, having their hands on me to check every nook and cranny, as they said such disgusting things. But mostly because this was my life and I could never escape it.

"Sold, for twenty-thousand," the auctioneer concludes.

I make my way off the stage, where I am taken for preparation. There, I was to be properly cleaned and presentable. If you were lucky enough, you'd end up in a home where they didn't even care enough to acknowledge you, and you went about your days cleaning until you eventually died. I knew all too well what the worst outcomes were.

When I got outside, I hadn't bothered to look around. Instead I was shoved into a black carriage, to be met face to face with Lucius Malfoy. I'm unable to limit my reaction as a look of horror falls upon my face. I'm instantly smacked upside my head by a Mudblood Trainer. He looks at me with disapproval and anger.

I fight the tears and retreat my facial features to neutral as I look back to Lucius Malfoy. I hadn't seen his face since that day. This was the face that haunted me night and day.

"I take it you remember me, girl. Well I remember you too," he taunts. The evil smile on his face drops and he signals the driver to take off. The carriage lifts, surfacing through the air as we make our journey.

_So, he bought me at the auction_. 

"Can't say I wanted to pay as much as I did for you, however, for what I have planned, you're all too perfect to not pass up."

I said nothing. My knee trembled and I kept my hand clamped over it as tightly as I had the strength for.

The ride surpassed for nearly an hour. The Malfoys as I recalled were a very well-established pureblood family. Since the rebellion of The Punishing, they'd only grown more wealthy and powerful as representatives for the values and beliefs the new wizarding world upheld. Them and their other high-ranking friends were all that way; drowning in their own money and reputation to know what to do with. For me… this meant no regard for my life or wellbeing to the highest degree. I was sure this would be my ending of this world. I would break and die here.

Lucius gave me a look and waited for me to exit the carriage and I swiftly obliged. The front of their house was as large as I'd expected; a long driveway between tall eerie hedges, leading up to a handsome manor made of dark stone.

I gulped.

Lucius hadn't needed to say anything for my queue to follow him inside, where the mouth of his doorway opened to a spacious, marble green, open floor plan, which divided the east and west wing.

"Narcissa," Lucius beckoned. An elegant blonde woman who walked as though her feet hovered above the floor, came from the left, with her hands clasped together at her waist.

"Lucius," she greeted with a soft smile. She turned to look at me, staring up and down. "What might this be, dear?" She questioned stiffly.

"A surprise, Narcissa," he grinned eagerly. "Jake, show her the way," he instructed a servant standing by. He was a muggle born boy. I didn't remember him from school.

He bowed his head submissively, "yes master," he pleaded graciously, tinged with fear. As they left the room, he approached me with his eyes down. I did the same and we both didn't dare to speak to one another. I simply kept close by as he wondered in and out of hallways to a room at the end.

It had several small beds, maybe five, lined up against the walls with trunks at the end of each. The boy, Jake, stood at the end of one and I took the notion this would be mine. I also gathered this was where he and others must go.

"You will either sleep in your master's chamber if they request or in here. Don't speak unless spoken to, and if one of us suffer, we all suffer, so don't screw anything up new girl," he scorns me. "Master Malfoy expects you to be in the foyer at 5pm," he leaves me with.

I looked around the dusty room, taking it all in. It was dark, spare for one square window in the middle of the wall. It was iron barred from the outside. From there, there was no view. Each bed squeaked, and were covered with a thin, lumpy mattress and one pillow. I decided not to expect anyone for the next 30 minutes and curled up on the bed. I wouldn't cry, but this time was harder to resist.

I remained in the clothes I was sent here in; essentially a smock with holes for arms. The auction house kept their little costumes for bidding presentations. I would only be offered a selection of uniforms by my masters. I had been to one home where I only wore the smock for three months before was sent back to the Auction House.

Finding my way back to the foyer, though difficult, I succeeded and met in line with the other four slaves. Three boys and one other girl. She was dressed in a provocative outfit and I accepted this would be expected of me too.

Then, Lucius and Narcissa entered the room and gazed upon us all with high approval for themselves. Behind them, _Draco Malfoy_. He pushed past and stood at his father's side. That's when his eyes found me.

I last saw Draco Malfoy over three years ago, before the Punishing and before the segregation. He was among those grinning mercilessly and teasing from the sidelines as our kind were ushered away to another end of the school. I recall him even saying, " _disgusting mudbloods, you don't belong here!_ " and his friends from Slytherin all cheered in victory.

"What is this, father? What is she doing here?" He sneered at me.

"Are you not pleased with her? My, I thought you despised this girl," Lucius snickered.

"I do, Father, she was Potter's little wart."

"She's a gift, son, for you," Narcissa began, looking to Lucius, who continued, "the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew only you could have the chance to maim and humiliate her."

Draco neither looked disgusted nor pleased. "Alright, I could have some fun," he decided, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve absentmindedly, "send her to my rooms." And with that final note, he walks off, taking up the wing with a hop in his step.

I grow a cold sweat and feel ill as two of the male servants escort me up the stairs. One opens a set of double doors and the other pushes me inside, leaving me alone in the bedroom. It had to be Draco Malfoys. The curtains were a bold emerald green, as was the bed covers only with gold embroidery. I hadn't had time to contain myself when the doors swung open again and Draco entered. His presence was tough and strong. I had to settle myself to remember this was no longer the annoying and arrogant thirteen-year old from school, but a man, and a powerful one at that.

"Hermione Granger, did you miss me?" He turned, smirking, as he closed the doors.


	2. Chapter Two

**The Punishing**  
Ch.2

* * *

**Draco's POV:**

Sodding Father, always up to no good. I stride through the hallways of my home, adjusting my suit as my mother nagged me to. She believed solely in reputation, and hers was the untouchable wife and mother to the Malfoy family. She intended to keep that reputation through me as Father seemed to enjoy causing trouble for us in the Wizarding World. Most would say we are loved and adored – those people are pureblood. As for the rest of them, we are most hated, as the faces of the rebellion that my father so eagerly signed up for, leading his supporters to the grounds of Hogwarts to capture any and all muggle-born witches and wizards, we were targeted as the type of people others _feared_ to become like.

I wasn't entirely sure it was the best reputation when you considered the masses.

Father often spoke in private to his colleagues about potential word of an army to free the slaves. He hardly seemed bothered by it, as though he had something up his sleeve. And if I knew my father, he certainly did.

Then again, if I knew my father, how come I was surprised by Hermione Granger, an old foe from school, standing in our foyer and wearing rags? It was exactly the kind of ironic form of torment that he could have come up with for this girl that he could take enjoyment out of.

Father had said it would bring us all great pleasure to watch "the girl who thought could bring us down, only be broken in all defacing and humiliating torture you inflict upon her. Enjoy it." With that, he sipped his wine, staining his thin lips red and he smiles with it.

I retreated to my bedroom, knowing what awaited me.

I push through the doors, establishing my presence more than necessary. I admitted I was enjoying this after all these years. Swivelling back around to close and secure the doors, I looked back at her timid figure and teased, "Hermione Granger, did you miss me?"

She said nothing, bowing her head with her hands tucked in front of her.

"I missed you," I approach her, and take a finger to her cheek, stroking it gently. "Why I often think about what happened to the Golden Trio. I half expected you would have found a way to avoid being captured or at least escape by now, if I'm being honest. Somehow Potter certainly did…"

Her body signalled alertness, yet she dared not look at me. "Oh but, he didn't take you with him, did he? His supposed best friend, amid danger, and he took off. I suppose the Weasleys didn't consider you that special either, they took off too shortly after." She was visibly distraught and fighting off a steaming anger.

"How does it feel, Granger," I continue, circling her as I looked over her. She was weak, bony, and certainly damaged goods by now. For, now, a woman of at least sixteen she hardly appealed to the man's eye. "To fall so far already and then end up here? You were a big problem for me back at Hogwarts, and I fully intend to remind you just how right I've always been."

With that last note, I leave my room, readying myself for a nightly outing as she remained in my room. I suppose as her new Master, I should have dismissed her.

**Hermione's POV:**

For a long time, I cried. I cried over everything that had happened to me these last three years because discovering Harry and Ron were gone, broke me completely. _They were safe_ , I clung onto. Yet the intruding thoughts of betrayal hit harder. I knew it wasn't either of their faults. I had just believed with all my heart that they were more than my friends, and I was part of their worlds as much as they were apart of mine. I thought it meant somewhere out there not just them, had been trying to come back for me after they'd forgotten. It didn't seem that way anymore.

I supposed it had been several hours that I waited in his room for his return. More hours so cleaning myself up in his bathroom to appear as though I wasn't crying. I don't recall being awake long enough before I curled up on the floor and rest my eyes. I assumed I wasn't welcome on the bed… Then, sleep took over me, taking my burning eyes and letting the hours of the night pass by.

When I awoke, I knew instantly where I was. I couldn't have forgotten if I wanted to as it invaded my dreams. I'd been bought by the Malfoys as Draco's personal slave. Pushing up off the floor beneath me, where I slept, I rose to stand and look over to his bed. Still empty and untouched.

Minutes later of waiting impatiently, his doors open wide. It's not Draco, but Jake.

"You are to be down in the dining room, immediately. Await in the corner for further directions," he says flatly and disappears.

His uniform was simplistic; black with a green hemmed blazer. In this new world, muggle born males were submit to a lot of physical and painful torture, easily replaceable or disposable depending on how they made it out. Jake was obviously secure here and held onto that with fear.

With my first masters, I had tried to pair up with another girl to escape. We were maimed and beaten, then she was kicked out after she could no longer cover up her pregnancy. I never saw her again but each time I came back to the Auction House, I looked for her. I didn't even know her name…

Easy to say, us slaves didn't really count on each other. This was a save-yourself ordeal. I felt less hope with each new one I met. Had everyone given up so easily or was I out of my mind for believing this would all be over and good would prevail? I wasn't so sure these days. Especially in the hands of the Malfoys, I knew I was subjected to living every kind of hell.

Through the foyer, I found my way to the dining room and joined the ranks on the sides. I looked like I was asking for a beating with my smock on. That they'd take one look at me and have no other urge but to keep me in my place of servitude because I was lower than scum. It was an awful feeling to anxiously prepare yourself for what you would be punished from day to day. Most times, there didn't need to be a reason.

Narcissa and Lucius entered, and Draco dragged behind them wearing the same clothes from the night before. He looked tired and hungover.

As they all took their seats, dining on the breakfast, the other servants took a knowing place on attending to their needs. It seemed two of the boys were at Narcissa's disposal, Jake and the other girl for Lucius. She did seem older than me, perhaps by a few years or so. She held a straight face as she poured his tea for him and brought it to his lips. He graciously offered the sip with a devious smirk. The need to be reminded daily of his status sickened me. Maybe more than how he still seemed to take joy out of it.

Draco did not acknowledge me, instead seating himself at the other head of the table and digging into his breakfast.

His father noticed this too and I could have sworn his eye began to twitch.

"Son," he began, exasperated, "I won't have you wasting my offering this way, now show some appreciation." With that, he dabs his mouth with a napkin and leans back. His female slave went to massage his shoulders as the boy waited on his food and refreshments.

Draco sighed, "come on then, kneel at my feet, Granger."

I showed no sign of refusal and walked towards him, where I bent to my knees and rested myself on my heels. He asked nothing else of me and proceeded to eat.

_I was starving._

When did the slaves here get to eat? Was it something we had to earn? I'd been in a place like that before.

"Father," Draco spoke up. His father leaned forward, dismissing his slave for leave. She bowed with a polite, _thank you Master_ , and left towards the kitchen. "She smells foul, I will be needing new garments for the girl."

"I'll have Cordelia handle that today, son, was there anything else?" he enquired. I felt as though he _wanted him_ to have other things in mind for me.

"That should be about all for now," he insisted and got up from the table. "I'm bored, do not disturb me for a few hours."

I remained on the floor for a long time after the others left. _He hadn't dismissed me again_. It was uncalled for as a slave to wonder off on their own terms. To do so meant certain punishment.

I sat, kneeling for an hour, able to smell the tempting leftover food from the table, before Lucius' female slave came back in.

"You can get up now," she sighed, disappointed. "I am Cordelia, I am Master Lucius' slave. You are needed in the kitchen for duties," she instructed, then lead me through to the next room.

Through the serving door, I entered a gourmet kitchen. Jake and the others were cleaning up.

That's when I noticed the plate of food on the counter. "Eat up," Cordelia says coolly, "then help us clean. You can start by bringing in the leftovers from the dining room."

It's an English muffin with jam, and I scoff it down too quickly to stomach, and I'm missing the taste of it upon my lips already.

Cleaning up was silent. As I dried the dishes and put them to the side, Jake or Cordelia would put them away. They seemed to know this kitchen far better. The other boys – I had yet to learn their names – kept to themselves even more so than the other two.

Following breakfast, I awaited in my dorms, sitting perched up on my bed waiting for someone to call on me. I didn't want to be caught trying to sleep. I was too afraid of what they'd do to me. Surely enough, I hear the Mafloy boy beckon. He storms through the doors and barks an order at me, "upstairs, now. Don't make me wait."

I scurry behind him. He leads me back to his bedroom and my stomach sinks. _Breathe Hermione, whatever is coming to you is inevitable_. 

Waiting for me, is Cordelia with a sewing needle and thread.

"Strip," Draco turns to me.

I felt as though I had gone deaf as the word flew over my head.

"Strip, now" he repeats, cocking an eyebrow. Cordelia looks at me encouragingly. Jake had said if one of us suffers then we all suffer.

I gently pull back one bulging sleeve of my smock, exposing a shoulder. Feeding my arm out, I go for the next, slowly to prolong my exposure.

As hard as I tried collecting my emotions, this was too much. This was different than the other times! I knew this man once long ago and I was not only vulnerable to him but at his command too. I was under _his ownership_ …

Surely, as the second shoulder slid off, it sank to my feet in one pool of beige and brown, leaving behind a naked and afraid body. I stood still, resisting the desperate need to cover myself from his stalking eyes as he inspected me curiously. Was the room this cold beforehand?

"Cordelia," he summoned, and she approached, "show me that blue one again."

She fetches from the bed, a bra, light blue and shimmery with long hanging beads. The bottoms; a revealing boy cut with similar trimmings. She held it out towards me and I looked to Malfoy.

"Try them on," he says into his hand and waits impatiently.

I slip on the panties first, feeling a shiver as the material sweeps my thighs. The bra cups around my breasts, pushing them tightly together to allude to more cleavage than I had.

He takes me in, walking around in circles. Making small remarks in the form of hums that neither hinted to approval or disapproval. Then his fingers found me and brushed my skin as he braced me for viewing. With that, he comes to kneel in front of me. I feel hypersensitive to my surroundings, noticing all the small things like the temperature of his breath hitting my navel.

He brings his hands up my thighs delicately, and fondles at the hem of the panties, but he does not remove them.

"They fit well, Cordelia, have the others singed in for her too."

Before I could notice, he was gone and I wasn't sure if I'd been holding my breath that whole time as I grew dizzy.

"You're pale, girl," Cordelia notions cautiously then lowers her voice, "don't let the Master see you hesitate."

I hear commotion downstairs, reflexing into a panic.

It's Draco shouting. Only, now followed by fast paced running up the stairs towards…

He practically walks through the door, "Granger, come with me," he takes me by the elbow. He pulls me in closer, whispering into my ear, "you do anything to fuck this up for me, you'll be sorry, you got that?"

Had I done something wrong? Was I supposed to follow him earlier? How was he going to punish me? The thoughts terrified me. It would be something sick and twisted.

At the foot of the stairs stood a man, someone I faintly recognised.

When he sees me, there is a look of both eagerness and surprise on his face and he goes to stroke his chin.

"Nott, you remember Granger don't you," Draco snarls, throwing me forward.

Of course, _Theodore Nott_. He wasn't all that known in our year, just that he was a Slytherin and had some notable parents. Now I recalled him passing in the halls, as a younger more pre-pubescent version of himself. Now he was sharp and looked as though he could easily surpass sixteen years old for his twenties. Something Draco's boyish looks will never aid him in.

"Yes, I do. How ever did you get your hands on her, Draco?" Theodore Nott bends to me and pulls my chin up to meet his eyes. He offers guidance for me to stand.

"Found her at the Auction House. She's mine," he cackles, pulling me back to his arms, where he wrapped an arm around my waist and the other across my chest. One hand cupped my breast loosely, and I freeze.

"Then I expect she'll be joining us tomorrow night?" Nott smirks, eyeing my body.

"Perhaps," Draco says in a low, warning voice.

"Perhaps," Nott repeats, "well that's disappointing to hear after everything that's happened, Draco, are you sure?"

Draco pauses, and I feel him straighten his posture behind me as he takes in a deep breath. "We'll be there."


	3. Chapter Three

**The Punishing**  
Ch.3

* * *

**Hermione's POV**. 

I washed the makeup from my face over a rusty sink. The mascara smudged under my eyes and the lipstick bled. I hardly recognised myself… I don't really remember what I used to look like either, but I know before the Punishing, it wasn't with hollow eye sockets, purple tinged skin, protruding cheek bones and bruising lips.

"I stopped looking in the mirror years ago," Cordelia came up behind me. "I don't want to be reminded of who I am."

I sighed, "this isn't who we are, Cordelia." I knew this in my heart to be true.

She smirked and shook her head, "we lost ourselves the day our freedom was taken, Hermione. Do us all a favour and don't forget that."

I knew she meant well. Most of us learned by now that it was best to play the part of the sub as we couldn't bare to feel anymore pain than we already endured. In the beginning, we did try… we tried to fight them off. Hundreds of us were slaughtered publicly to be made an example of. Lucius was there that day too, reading from the Podium affront of several innocent children under the Cruciatus Curse. He read aloud the sentences and criminalised slaves for acting against their masters. Punishable up to Cruciatus or even the _Killing Curse_

_"Today belongs to the powerful – the Pureblood – as we take back the Wizarding World for our own and punish the impure! Today we demonstrate what the Ministry will no longer tolerate, and that, witches and wizards, is BLOOD." Lucius' hand gave the signal and several Ministers inflicted the Killing Curse on the children._

I was chained and locked in the basement for four days following that dreaded day. In Cordelia's eyes, I saw her own reflection of the day too. I wondered if she had been working for Lucius then. I didn't dare ask.

I curl up in my bed. The two boys, Charles and Finn I'd learned the names of, were in Narcissa's chambers tonight. I'd noticed they often did that when Lucius was away at the Ministry. I hadn't been asked to stay in Draco's bed yet. I was beginning to fear the worst was still yet to come.

That night I didn't sleep. I thought long and hard about spending the rest of my life here. That much I'd accepted; that I'd die here as my body gave up on itself from all the pain and humiliation. Lucius would kill me, so long as my blood didn't stain his furniture. _But what about Draco?_

Suppose I could keep him happy long enough to prolong Lucius taking matters into his own hands and I could buy myself time to figure out a way to get away from here. Lucius often wasn't home and Narcissa paid no attention - that much was a certain opening. But I was Draco's property... the more I learn his routine and attempt to manipulate it, however, I could get away without anyone noticing and gain a substantial head start.

_Draco Malfoy, you are mine_. 

**Draco's POV:**

Blood trickled down my knuckle. I had just punched through the dry wall of my bedroom. _Fuck you, Nott, you perverted, arrogant, arse_. Nott's father worked with mine in the Ministry, and often chose to stay in London with his mistresses, leaving his son the house. Nott made it his personal playground… he was notorious for hosting the most disturbing, out of control sex parties. He'd buy out new Auction House girls to perform for his friends in these sex quarters, give them as gifts and sometimes beat and humiliate them for entertainment. He was a sick man, and not someone who I remembered to be my friend.

With a look of fury, I stormed across my room to my bedside table. _"Alohomora."_ The deadlock fell to the floor and the doors of the cabinet swiftly open to my demand, revealing a glistening vintage bottle of whiskey.

I popped its cork and sculled feverishly from the bottle neck. It burned hotly as it seeped down my throat. But the buzz was what I was after. It swooned over me shortly after and I retreated to my bed, cradling the bottle in my arms.

Beneath me, something poked into my back. I pulled it out and held it over my head. It was one of those shiny new lingerie sets father had imported for my new pet. I thought about how it looked on her. In truth, that potato sack she was sent here in hid something I hadn't expected. Her ribs were so bare, and her pelvis protruded unnaturally. When I held her breast in my hand, it was but a light weight resting against my fingers. _Potential there_ , I had thought. _She was so fragile_.

With another swig of whiskey, I dropped the bra, letting it drape over my stomach in a scrunched-up bunch. Then I felt a boner push up into my trouser.

It had been so long since I'd felt true release. Maybe even since before _then_ …

Pansy had been an exciting new experience for me. What other virgin fifteen-year-old wouldn't take on a naked and willing girl in their room? Daphne had been my next victory shortly later, and at Nott's parties, they'd ravish their naked bodies against me. I was a King then.

My hand found a grip over my cock and in small movements, felt for a reason to keep going. Surely enough, some soft, teasing strokes had me and I needed to fulfil my needs. _Fucks sake_. Ditching my bottle, I pull down my trousers to my thighs and fall back against the pillows as I pulled myself.

My toes curled and I pushed my pelvis upwards, further into my own hand. _Holy fuck, I'm too close!_

I didn't want to, not yet. I opened my eyes and slowed my movements…

My eyes wondered onto the blue bra laying across my abdomen. _She looked so fucking sexy in that thing_ … and as I go to discard the thing, I feel an all too familiar build up.

"Oh, fuck me," I hiss, the orgasm overwhelming my body, and I shudder with a light sweat.

Panting, my head hits the pillow. What the fuck just happened?

* * *

My pocket watch read two-thirty, and I tucked it in my jacket pocket. "Cordelia," I said, looking at myself in the mirror. She was squatting at my side, stitching a hem into my pantleg. "I need the girl in here at once."

"Yes, Master Draco," she bows her head, finishing a stitch and rising.

After ruining my favourite pair of trousers last night, I had her begin on some new ones right away this morning.

The Granger girl poked her head through the door and wearily stepped past. She was dressed in her _uniform_ – as my Father insisted – instead of those rags today. It was this dark blue piece; high neck, clipping around her throat, and a matching thong with silver heels.

I cleared my throat, "Cordelia, have more variety of colours in her wardrobe please. I will need something particularly extravagant for her tonight too. That will be all." She leaves us be.

"Granger," I cough back, avoiding looking at her in the mirror. So far if I'd caught a glimpse, I'm sent back to the memories of the night before when I pre maturely blew my own load at her bra…

"Yes Master," she responds in a soft voice.

I exhale deeply, "I need to discuss tonight's business with you. We will be attending a party hosted by Theodore Nott, I suppose you're familiar with his family's hierarchy level in the Wizarding World… this means he throws very big events and likes to show off. You will be expected to act according to my demands all night… if you act hesitantly or against me, expect severe punishment both there and when we return home. I won't be kind about it either."

She stands stiff, but does not appear startled, "of course Master, I hope not to disappoint you."

I bite down on my tongue.

"Good. Now, go about with your daily chores, and I want you ready for tonight by 7 sharp…" I grumble, averting my attention to my tie. Like the others, it wasn't formal enough for tonight. I tug it off and it fumbles into a knot. I tug again, and it tightens. "Crap," I mumble under my breath.

When I look up, Granger is standing directly behind my shoulder. "Master," is all she says as she brings herself around and takes her nimble fingers up to my tie. She does not look at me, but I openly stare down at her with quizzical eyes.

Granger finishes unbounding my tie and slips it off, letting it drag around the back of my neck and down my shoulder. She offers it to me, and I take it.

"Th-thank you. You may go now," I manage to get out and stride back into my closet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I can't believe with only two chapters posted and in this short of time, how much positive feedback this has received. Wanted to give out a huge thank you to everyone who has done so, it means a lot my work is supported.   
> I am incredibly tedious with details of pace, character development - and, dear god, - writing consistently in the same TENSE. Please, feel free to leave any and all thoughts; all feedback is appreciated.


	4. Chapter Four

**The Punishing**  
Ch.4

* * *

**Hermione's POV:**

Cordelia dressed me. Jake stood observantly behind, and Charles and Finn had moved back into the dorms for Lucius' return from London tonight. They wouldn't be needing to attend to Narcissa's needs while he's here… Over the past few days, I'd learned that it seemed Narcissa had a guilty pleasure with those boys while her husband was away.

I observed my body, running my fingers over myself. She'd created a black garnment; sheer top and bottom, over that, a golden tassel chain bodice draped from across my chest and neck area, to my navel.

"And the Master Draco sent down these for you," Jake stated as Charles and Finn brought forward a tray each. It reveals an array of foods; shepherd's pie, pumpkin pasties and a treacle tart. "And this too," Finn added, bringing forward a goblet of pumpkin juice.

My mouth salivated. I remembered these foods from Hogwarts; they were all classic Wizarding world dishes. I pulled the goblet into my chest, holding it graciously for a moment. I practically fell onto my bed, taking the pumpkin pasties into my mouth and scoffing them down. I began to choke.

Cordelia came up and repeatedly hit my back, "easy, Hermione. Take it easy. You must not make yourself sick, the Master will be furious."

I swallow and let the pasties settle before my next bite. This time slower.

"Thank you," I look up gratefully.

Jake said nothing and walked out. The other boys followed too, but Cordelia sat across from me.

I offer to share my tray. She stares blankly at the food, only to shake her head, "no, I couldn't. This was ordered for you to eat, only."

_Ordered_. Malfoy had sent this down…

I hungrily scooped into the shepherd's pie. I knew Charles and Jake did most of the cooking here and this was delicious.

Following my meal, I finished the goblet of pumpkin juice and stood to collect myself. For the first time in a long time, I felt full.

I left the dorm and found my way to the kitchen to join the others for cleaning duties. Only Jake was there.

"Where can I start?" I offered.

"On your knees sucking off your Master, where you belong" he spits, dropping a plate in the sink.

My back runs cold with fear and anger, "why do you say horrible things to me, Jake?"

He braces himself against the counter, tensing his back, "forget it." When he turns back around, he widens his eyes and lowers his head immediately, gasping, "Master Draco, how may I serve you?"

I feel his hand clasp my shoulder and jump slightly.

"No Jake, I don't believe your assistance to be that useful. Come Hermione, we are to be leaving now." Draco had his body pressed to my back, and I felt once he initially inhaled, he'd held his stiff posture and did not release it. I stayed close to him as we retreated to the Foyer.

Lucius was there, handing his coats to Cordelia and he whips his head our way. His eyes lust over me with approval. "You've done well with her Draco."

"Thank you, Father, your gift is well appreciated," he responds.

"I thought you'd see things my way, son," Lucius hisses with an evil glare. From the pocket of his robes, he pulls a black box. "So, I got this."

Draco takes it curiously and looks at it for a long while before taking the initiative to pull back the cover. He exhales and looks back to his father.

"What an excellent idea," he bites.

He turns to me and I'm able to see the reveal… it was a silver band. As he inched closer, he picked it up between his fingers and unclasped its lock. "Here," he says to me. It's an instruction, I realise, and I stand before him. "Kneel." I adhere to his request.

He pushes my hair aside and before my eyes, I see what it truly is… _A collar_. It had the Malfoy family crest engraved on the throat. As he slipped it around my neck, I felt the collar magically bound itself. Draco jumps back slightly at this too.

"It's bound to our word only, if she refuses your requests, it will harm her. Quite perfect for _the brightest witch of her age_." There is poison on his tongue as he says the words. He re addresses Draco once more, "tell me, what are your plans tonight?"

"Theodore is hosting tonight, I'll be bringing the girl for a good time," he says, "we'd better be off then. Running late as it is." He ushers us to the Floo.

**Draco's POV:**

"Draco, you made it. I was beginning to question if you chickened out," Nott snarled, sipping a goblet.

The room was in dim lighting, illuminated only by the soft lights of a stage which trailed down the centre of the room. Along both sides, lounge chairs for the masters and their _several_ slaves to lounge across over each other. In the corners of the room, beds were built over elevated platforms with sheer curtains pinned up. I saw Pansy in one, watching me with sharp eyes as she received attention from her male servants.

"We saved you a seat my friend," he gestured to the head of the table where a single chair stood. "We figured you wouldn't be needing much more room." Then, his eyes wondered to Hermione and he seemed amused.

I took the seat and looked down the table… Zabini, Flint, the Greengrass sisters, Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle.

"Is that… _Hermione Granger?_ " Pansy called, coming down from the beds. She wore a long black robe, presumably not wearing much underneath.

I looked to Nott, "must have slipped my mind, sorry buddy," he joked.

I grunt, taking a hold of Granger by the back of her neck and pressing my face into her hair. "I thought you'd all be pleased for a little reunion tonight," I said. "She's my shiny new toy."

"Not so strong without her _friends_ , is she?" Zabini snickered.

"Yeah, with Potter and that _Weasley_ boy gone, looks like she's gone really far. Wow Draco, I'm impressed." She sits on the table near me, giving flirtatious eyes and running a nail up her thigh.

With that advancement, I pull Granger down to my lap. Pansy stiffens. I bring my hand to Granger's arm, dragging it delicately down to her leg where I clasp her knee and pull her legs apart. Pansy wraps her robe tightly around herself and retreats angrily.

"You collar your slaves?" Nott queries.

"Well," I start, leaning back into my chair, "I don't make a habit of it, but yes Nott, I have collared her. This one is far too valuable to be touched by anyone else but me, and I intend to keep it that way," I send warning.

Nott was known for sharing, swapping and even _giving away_ his slave girls as party-favours. Not her. 

As though reading my thoughts, he snaps his fingers, and directs his guests' attention to the stage. Three girls stride out in lingerie and take choreographed places on the stage. Two poles were stationed parallel at the back, and one near the front, close to Nott and I.

They begin to dance and strip, enticing the lusting eyes of Marcus Flint, Crabbe and Goyle. Astoria and Daphne take a stand and walk to Pansy's reserved bed. They seemed to take place amongst each other like cats.

With the others distracted, Nott looks to me seriously. "You seem to have turned things around, Malfoy."

I only smirk at him. I didn't want to please the bastard with a verbal answer. I just continue stroking Granger up her leg, sometimes mixing it up and letting my hand roam up her torso and around her breasts. I could feel her controlling her breathing. _Good girl_ , I thought to myself.

**Hermione's POV:**

I felt a shiver with every stroke, making it harder to keep my breathing at bay when it only threatened to hitch. He tickled up the nerves of my inner thigh, instigating a blood rush to my core.

_Don't do anything rash. Let him. I told myself._

As the boys talked of Nott's father, I focused on my surroundings, careful not to arouse attention towards me. The girls who danced before us I slightly remembered from the Auction House. Their faces were skim of any life, luckily shielded by wild, thick hair as it whipped around. The one closest to us began to strip and Nott was losing focus to his conversation with Draco Malfoy, eager to catch her slip her breasts from its bra.

She braces herself against the pole, easing down and opening her legs at Nott. He licks his lips, looking at her now but absentmindedly listening to Malfoy.

_Such sex crazed maniacs_. Looking to the other elite members down the table, the story wasn't much different. The two girls at the back had resorted to crawling across the stage to one another, pressing their bodies together up on their knees and taking each other in a passionate kiss. If they were acting, they were very convincing. Blaise Zabini had his bundle of slaves laying across him, some kissing his neck or stroking his leg.

"Have you heard from your Mother at all?" Draco's voice breaks my thoughts.

"No," Nott sighs. He stops staring at his stripper and leans his jaw into his palm. He gave Draco his full attention now.

"Nobody has seen her. They're convinced she was kidnapped…" he mumbles low, but I can catch it.

"Kidnapped?" Draco's interest peaks. He moves his hand again, cupping my breasts and giving a firm and thorough squeeze like massaging an orange of its juices. I purse my lips together.

"Yeah. Do you remember just over two years ago, after the Bulstrodes lost their half-breed daughter, Milicent, and her Father went massacring other pureblood families' children, then disappeared? There's theory he… kidnapped her."

He had struggled to say it. This was first I'd heard of the Bulstrodes or Nott's missing Mother… only, if I had been the one telling it, I felt that likely was not the only theory. _If he was killing families, why would he take off with just the one?_ I felt a pang of guilt for Nott, but it was gone quicker than it came.

Nott wanted no more of the conversation. Draco wraps his arm around and cradles my throat in his palm. I concentrate on my breathing. Then his lips find the side of my neck and he leaves small traces of suckling and nibbling from there to my shoulder, having me lean back on him to comfortably arch himself. I cannot help and squeak when his teeth graze my skin and the collar zaps me.

I wince. It stung but was tolerable. However, Draco being at my neck also, felt the effects. Worse off, Nott had been watching.

"Naughty Mudblood," Nott grits his teeth. "Handy those collars, although I tend to prefer leaving that job left to my own vices…" He moves to stand from the seat and mounts the stage. His dancer faces him with fear in her eyes. I felt as much fear as she did, able to catch the light hitting his face only for a moment and seeing the hungry look in his eyes. They did not say lust or pleasure, but _torture_. He then grabs her by the hair and throws her to the floor.

My jaw uncontrollably quivers with sorrow as I so desperately can't bare to watch. I go to look away, but Draco catches my jaw and holds my face forward.

I feel his lips press to my ear, "just watch," he whispers.

The girl cries out and he squats over her, taking a fistful of her hair once more to raise her head off the ground. His guests seem pleased, and Nott looks over his _audience_ , looking for encouragement.

She continues whimpering, "please, Master," she begs to him. She hadn't known what she had done wrong, and neither did I. I was gathering she didn't need to, it was just because he _wanted to_.

"Go be a good girl and put on a show for Daddy by joining the others. Don't turn out to be a waste of what I paid for you," and he slams her back down, finished with his punishment.

She gets herself onto all fours and crawls back up the stage, trying to be sexual about it, but I can see the bones of her body shaking with terror. The two other girls eagerly include her, having just witnessed her gory treatment, and they engage in a sensual show of lust and passionate oral.

With their _entertainment_ taking off, Crabbe and Goyle had made their way to corners of the room with each of their own slave girls. Disturbingly, I began to hear the grunts of intercourse take place. Pansy and the Greengrass sisters were in their own similar situation, only having the sheer curtains partially drawn down as they crawl like kittens, naked, and giggling at each other, occasionally leaning to one another for a playful kiss. All the while, their male slaves are taking orders and following their leads to where or who they need to be pleasuring next.

I felt sick to the stomach. It was a sex party.

I feel Nott staring at me, or more so at Draco and me. He's waiting for something.

Draco sighs quietly behind me, and I have a moment to collect myself, understanding what is expected. _He wants a show too_.

Draco flips me, to straddle him, and his hand grasps my throat. His face says fury, but his eyes… they hide something else.

I gulp and timidly nod at him. _Accept what is expected of you_ …

He does not move, though.

Lost in staring at each other, waiting for something to happen, I breathe and close my eyes, taking on movement of my own. I slide down his legs to the floor…

Draco holds himself, watching me with high alertness. _Don't appear disobedient, Hermione_. I told myself and braced for what I was about to do…

Kneeling, slightly sheltered by the table, I comb my hands up his calves, over his pants. The higher I rubbed, I applied more pressure. His breathing increases, but he does not take his eyes off me. I nuzzle my nose into his thigh, bite at his pant leg and gain closeness to between his legs where I creep my hands towards his zipper.

Draco unveils a look of anger, rising so fast the chair flies out behind him. Standing over me, he has my hair wrapped in his fist, just as Nott had with his slave. I want to cry out, and before I can, Draco says, "you'll be finishing _in there_ , whore."

He struts away from the main table and makes way to the last bed of the room, stripping his coat to the floor on the way. I scurry behind obediently and crawl inside as he draws the curtains, leaving one last look towards Nott.

"Silencio," he charms the curtains.

I scamper back, pressing myself into the corner and he turns to me with a red face.

"What the fuck was that?" He whispers. "Come here."

Barely in front of him yet, he lunges and drags me against his body. Then in a hurry, he removes his shirt too.

_This is it_. I gulp. I think of the sounds Goyle made in his bed chamber and cower… I didn't want to be raped. Especially not in the snake pit…

"Lay on your back," he whispers again, looking around before he leant over me. "Why did you do that?"

"You- You needed to punish me, so I…" I begin, but my voice is croaked and scared.

He sighs, letting his head fall, "I say when, Granger! Only I do. Now follow my lead…"

Draco calms again, perching up on his knees as he undoes his belt and tosses it to the side. Avoiding eye contact, he loses the pants too. Through the curtains, you were able to make out the shadows of Nott finding his seat amongst his Slaves again. I recalled looking around and saw that those on the outside were able to make out what was going on within. _He was alluding to having sex with me for punishment_ …

I arch my back, taking my fingers to my bra clasp while he's pulling his trousers off his ankles. It gives way and my bra falls, allowing me to pull the straps and remove it. Draco looks back and locks his eyes on me, thinking. Whatever it was, he shakes it off.

I go for my underwear, tightly closing my eyes this time. It would be less humiliating for me this way. I feel his hand over mine and I shoot my eyes open again.

"No, not them" he insists, sternly. "Just… be still."

Draco cannot seem to hold eye contact with me as he does so, and he leans down to lay between my legs and closes the gap. To the outside looking in, we were in a bundle, him dominating me.

Our heads are close together and I hear his breathing peak again, as well as the nervous sweat giving him away.

"Malfoy," I whimper. His jaw clenched tight, he gives in to look at me face to face. "Why won't you…" I bite back, "... master?"

Draco barely contains to hide his emotion this time. I am desperately clinging to an answer to settle my nerves. I felt utterly lost and dragged along with his bipolar mood swings.

"Not this way," is all he manages to say. With that, he rolls us over, having me straddle him on top. With his face flushing pink, he licks his lips.

I look down, and my breasts hung in perfect view with him looking up to me.

_He genuinely didn't want this_. I concluded with relief. _It was all a show_.

All I hear between the four security curtains is our breathing, gradually settling. It felt… _safe_. I took comfort in knowing I was not going to be taken out of public humiliation and entertainment for his friends.

"Granger," he says softly, "kiss me."

I roll my lips back, taking that last moment for myself. I had not been asked to kiss a Master before. It was rare at times in my darkest moments they even forced a kiss upon me, whereas the rest of my body they felt free to use as they pleased. _But never kissing_.

I lean down to him. When his lips came to mine, I was conscious to not just kiss him back, but take charge at times too. I cocked my head to one side, deepening our kiss, and he slipped his tongue along my lower lip.

His hand found my thigh, riding up, over my hip and rib to cup a breast in his hand. He felt its anatomy fondly.

I consistently thought of the eyes watching from afar.

_They wanted to see me be treated in ways they believed I was deserving of. To be brutally beaten or taken by force_. They always did… I saw the way they gawked at me when I entered, snobbishly grinning in victory as their school know-it-all and friend of the great Harry Potter, was subject to such treatment.

_So… why didn't Draco?_ It nagged at me while he kissed me and took himself down my neck and to my breasts where he took one in his mouth. His tongue danced around a nipple, coating the surface in his hot wet saliva. When he took his mouth off, I had to close my eyes as I felt the wonders of the cool air touched it.

My stomach heated with anticipation as I see him mount to his knees, take me by the waist and lower me to my back as a display before him. He scoops one of my legs over his shoulder, leaning his head in to kiss down the inside of it, closer to my…

"Oh," I moan the moment his lips kiss over my underwear, gently pressing over my clit.

I hold a hand over my mouth, but he's quick to catch it. "Like this," he breathes, and leads that same arm over my head. He moves the other one and places it so that my wrists crossed over each other. "I want you to keep them there."

Draco was delicate with me, trailing his hands up and down my body to feel every crevice and curve as his lips became busy with mine again.

"You're going to have to…" he starts, in between the roughness of our mouths clashing together. He was losing himself to the charade. I don't want to hear the words, it will feel like I have less control of myself, so I kiss him harder.

_Of course._

I take myself up to my knees and wait for him. Draco shuffles around and lays back in the corner of the bed, having my back to the curtains.

Hovering over him, I hesitate. It sends the collar off to shock me.

I feel a certain hotness between my legs as a result, but Draco only looks up at me with nervous eyes. I say nothing, so he's forced to stare up at the ceiling.

Huddling over, I prolong the inevitable by kissing from his chest, down his abdomen and navel. They were more tense to begin with, but the lower I got, the less I was able to give.

Right under my eyes, his abs clench together, knowing what is about to come.

I take a hand and pinch the elastic hem of his briefs. My heart rate increases.

_You've done worse… So much worse_. I told myself, but all I heard back was, but _were any of them Draco Malfoy?_

Gently, I wrap my fingers around his shaft, and I hear Draco gulp. It felt as though this was something neither of us were prepared for now. Feeling for momentum, I grasp and stroke the length to a steady rhythm until I'm ready to put my lips over him.

When I do, his fists grip the sheets and tug.

"Fucking hell," he hisses.

I wait for a moment, realise it was not out of pain, and try again. I get his tip in my mouth, learning his shape with my tongue as it rings around him. Confident in the lubrication I'd now created, I inched more of his cock deeper in my mouth. Malfoy's erection was one of a thick manner as well as gifted in length. When first seeing him, I only felt stress of the task at hand.

Taking him to the back of my throat with each stroke of my mouth, I pushed for the finish line.

"Granger," he warns. I don't slow down, instead wanting to get this all over with and start slurping on his dick at an increased speed. He moans out again, "Granger, wait."

I do not wait. The collar shocks me, causing me to drip on the sheets and make a noise I couldn't hold back.

Malfoy's hand finds my hair. He holds it, possibly even using the tips of his fingers to caress my head, as he unloads himself in my mouth. Suckling at his juices, I cleanly pull my mouth from him.

I sit up. Malfoy is flat on his back, doused in sweat, as his cock falls limp and oozes the last of his cum from the tip. At that sight, I swallow, wiping my lip.

"I thought I told you to wait," he grunts, but I don't sense anger.

"I'm sorry, Master. Did I not please you?" I ask, lowering my eyes from his gaze.

He breathes a heavy sigh and props himself up on his shoulders, thinking. Reaching for his briefs to cover himself, he finally says, "no, you performed to my satisfaction." That time, I felt he didn't just mean in acting accordingly to plan, but another performance also. "Now get dressed, we'd best leave soon."

I was dressed faster than he was, only having to fasten my bra back on and the chained jewelry piece, while he had all his other items of clothing to attend to. He draws open the curtains, and eager eyes await us. Draco slumps from the platform, pulling his belt through as he walks towards them.

Pansy now re joined at the side of the table, and I saw Daphne and Astoria asleep across the room in another bed chamber. They were completely naked and guarded by their male slaves. Pansy appeared agitated as she slung her leg lazily over the arm over the chair, exposing it from her robe. Her slave boy looked at her for instruction to do something, and she glared at him. He submissively apologised to his Mistress and kissed from her neck to her breasts. She merely sighed with satisfaction, yet kept her eyes trained on Malfoy.

I took my place beside him, lowering my gaze to the floor.

"Awfully quiet in there, Malfoy?" Nott teased, raising a goblet.

"Come on, Nott, difference between I and Goyle is I know how to impose a silencio charm," he smirked victoriously, slinging an arm around me and holding my ass. "Did you boys ever think you'd see the day the _famous_ , Hermione Granger, of the golden trio, would have to submit herself to someone like me?"

They all cackle together, taking my _punishment_ as the cruel joke they think it is. It was all too amusing for them to watch.

"Please," Pansy rolls her eyes, "the mudblood's pussy would be about as wide as a quidditch hoop by now."

"And yet the mudblood feels tighter around me than you ever did, Pansy," Draco snickers. Nott and Blaise fall into devious fits of laughter towards her. "Thank you for your generous hosting Nott, I hope to be attending soon, my friend."

With that, Draco palms at the small of my back and ushers me to turn with him and make our leave.

I wasn't sure if I'd gained more answers or questions…


	5. Chapter Five

**The Punishing**   
Ch.5

* * *

**Draco's POV:**

A week had passed since Nott's sour excuse of a social gathering. When going about around my home, I avoided contact with the Granger girl as much I could spare to. I felt _dirty_ and demoralised no matter how many steaming showers I took per day. It was that every time I saw her, crouched on the floor scrubbing, dusting and cleaning, I only saw images of her face as she enveloped me with her mouth and swallowed with eagerness.

Perhaps those showers didn't count when I'd been forced to have a pathetic wank each time, left shuddering and fantasising over my slave in the shower like a _boy_ because I couldn't take her for myself. It was my mind that was dirty.

Father had been away for three weeks now. Typically, he made the effort to return home for a night or weekend between every two weeks if he was flat out, but this time he hadn't even sent post. Mother hardly minded, she pranced around the house not looking far from the girls we _owned_. It was hardly appropriate for a son to see her mother's aged body strutting the hallways in her undergarments and a robe, a cigarette or brandy in one hand. Under circumstances, it was safest for me to barricade myself in my room away from them both.

Each day, I had Jake and Cordelia prepare from a list of daily meals to give to Granger. I hated the sight of her bones. I could mistake her for a sick old witch if I wasn't paying any attention. Due to her weak build and barely functioning immune system, the girl was covered in bruises she'd acquired from the simplest of tasks or was threatening to drop my tray at meals. I needed her in better shape if I were to get anything out of her.

Still, despite her sickly appearances, I felt I always had to linger my eyes over her for a few seconds longer. It had to be the lingerie garments, I told myself. Ridiculous, it was, in my opinion, to be cleaning in stuff like that… She always got them so wet, when she'd scrub the floors, leaning into the suds that soaked into her bras and panties. I just about spurt a load of pre cum in my pants just the other day when she stood in my doorway, dripping from places I couldn't avert my eyes from, to ask what she was expected to do for me next. It took everything of me not to say, _"mount me in this office chair and ride me."_ But by Merlin, I fucking wanted her to.

"Master Draco," Cordelia entered, her head low. "The tasks you'd left for Hermione to do have been completed. Am I to send for her to serve you now?"

I cleared my throat, "is there nothing else to be done? Gardens, laundry, polish the silverware?" I asked.

She softly responded, "no Master Draco, I'm sorry, they are completed too. The other slaves are tending to your mother at this moment."

I supposed having her clean every day, she was bound to run out of things. _You can only clean the un-dirty floors and windows so many times…_

"I see," I dismiss her. "Very well, thank you Cordelia."

Not moments later, Granger steps through my study. "You summoned me, Master," she says. She was dressed in a _dress_ today, interestingly. It was the first time out of her standard bra and pantie uniform. In saying that, it still made me stir in my seat. This black thing hugged from her neck to the highest length of her thighs, lined with slash details down the front that revealed her cleavage and peaked at her pussy. Down her legs, suspenders hooked into a pair of knee-high fish nets.

 _Here we fucking go_ , I curse myself. "Yes, I am studying at the moment, you are to bring me some snacks and a drink, and after that wait quietly over there," I gesture to a lounged part of the room where I read more so for personal enjoyment than work. She turns to make her leave, and I run my tongue over my teeth as I glimpse her behind. This girl would be a problem for me if I didn't control myself...

I'd been studying to be a lawyer in the Ministry… After majority of the Wizarding schools rejected the rebellion, defending the grounds and their muggle-born students within, Hogwarts and more became _collateral damage_ to my father's cause. In the meantime, we schooled from home under the guidance of our successful families. I personally, took my future more seriously. Blood may be thicker than water, but when Voldemort was defeated and my Father had to re-join civilisation, I didn't think the _Malfoy title_ would be any means of support alone. Since then, I studied hard and I was good at it.

Durmstrang was my Father's top choice in private education for me when it reached completion. At my rate, I wanted to have my course work completed and an apprenticeship in the Ministry by then to avoid it. School would never feel normal again when my last year at Hogwarts came to such a violent halt. I internally regretted my blind thinking as a twelve-year-old boy. Not that any of it mattered now…

Granger returned, a silver platter making its way to the corner of my desk. She'd plated an assortment of strawberries, rice pudding and… _crumpets and marshmallows?_

"What the hell are these for?" I ask, curiously picking up the combination.

"A snack, Master, you roast them…" she mumbles shyly.

"The fireplace is just there, you may cook them for me, seeing as I've never heard of these in my life…" I shake my head. What a peculiar combination. She bobs her head and picks up the small plate to the fireplace where she curls up and starts roasting away.

**Hermione's POV:**

A giddy feeling bubbles within while I'm perched in front of the fireplace. Crumpets and Marshmallows had been one of Ron and Harry's favourite treats to whip up in the Gryffindor Common Room. I thought it was a more popular snack in the Wizarding World, but Draco hadn't known.

After the Marshmallow melted into a white goop, coating the now, toasted crumpet, I piled them over the plate. "Here you are, Master," I draw closer to him and set it down. He glances away from his books, and stares at it in examination and picks it up. The sticky marshmallow coated his fingers and he wrinkled his nose. But, as he takes the unfamiliar snack to his lips and bites in, his face softens pleasantly.

"Quite um, interesting," he smiles down at it.

My heart skips a beat, and in that moment, I felt connected to my old life again.

"Thank you, Granger, that will be all. You're permitted to wait over there," he cocks his head. The study layout separated two large mahogany desks from a lounge suite, surrounded by a large selection of books. The titles peered back at me, tickling at my interest. I recalled so many of them from many years ago; all the books and biographies I'd planned on reading but never got to.

Over the hours as Draco Malfoy stressed over metres of parchment stretched across the desk, I spent eyeing each and every title. When I ran out, I started over. I enjoyed every minute of it while imagining what words filled the pages between those covers.

"Granger,"

_The Tales of the Beedle the Bard… Basic Hexes for the Busy and the Vex… Enchantment in Baking… An Anthology of Eighteenth-Century Charms…_

"Granger, are you even listening to me?"

_Men Who Love Dragons Too Much… Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charms… Handbook of Hippogriff Psychology… Flesh Eating Trees of the World…_

"GRANGER,"

I'm shaken from my trance of wonderment.

"You have some nerve," he rolls his eyes.

"I- I'm sorry Master, please forgive me," I stutter, jumping to my feet. He appears visibly annoyed at me but shrugs it off. "Pay more attention, Granger, you shouldn't have your head in the clouds. Certainly not in this house" he mutters the end under his breath. I felt everything he implied. Imagine had Lucius or Narcissa seen Draco allowed me to browse the library at my own free will… Allowed to fill my heads with thoughts, knowledge and opinions. I'd be flogged and starved at the least, but the most likely outcome would be to eradicate me completely.

_I hated this… I hated that not only had my freedom been taken away from me, but even the simple pleasures in life too. None of us could be our own person with feelings as they could threaten the pureblood's way of life again._

I stared back at the books, longingly.

Draco sighs, "what do you like?"

I look at him, my hair whipping around with me, and widen my eyes in disbelief. _Did he mean it?_

"I uh," I start, walking along the panels and unravelling the list in my head. "I like everything."

"Everything?" He raises his eyebrows and sags his fists into his pockets as he stands back and waits on me.

I nod, skimming the titles once more. "Yes, I've always loved books. I'd gotten my hands on as many as I could when I was younger…"

It was sensitive to bring up the past. It was as though we were all in pretending of me even having a live before slavery, even though Draco was there during the same time.

He clears his through and comes near me, "but I bet you haven't read this." He stops in front of a specific shelf, mostly books with old covers, a thin layer of dust and dating back to the 1700's at earliest. There was also a notable gap.

He nodded to it. But I was confused.

"The Invisible Book of Invisibility," he says with a smile.

I giggle, "oh, funny." I say.

Then he reaches out and with a slight shimmy, his hand appears to grip the space between books. As though tracing thin air, he pulls back and reveals the inner pages of an _invisible book_. "Only the outside is invisible. It's not the most thrilling read, but it took my Father a _long_ time to find a copy. There's a reason for that clearly, but we were travelling through a market in Europe when I tripped over nothing and discovered it was the book we'd been searching for," he looks down at it with an incoming smile as it triggered the memory.

I found it almost pure. His father in that memory even seemed more _human_ than I knew him to be. I tried to imagine the Draco Malfoy I went to school with; a small boy with a big head of hair, flying across an old bookshop.

He sets the book back onto the shelf and gloats over the collection. "Pick something," he finally says.

Stunned, I'm quick to doubt if he's serious or not but his face tells no joke. Before he changes his mind, I run my finger across the spine of several before pinching a cover. Handbook of Hippogriff Psychology caught my interest. I hugged it to my chest, as though savouring for the inevitable time of it being taken away.

"Now, I'm going to be a while longer, so would you take my dishes to have them washed and bring back some butterbeer and two steins," he says, returning to his desk. I drop the book to an armchair and quickly race to take care of his orders first.

Upon return, Draco extends one of the butterbeer mugs to me. "Listen, you are only permitted to read within this room and under my supervision. This is only something I'm willing to offer whilst Father is in London. Do us both a favour and be smart about it, Granger."

He flaps the newspaper open before him, beginning to cross reference with his own work and I lose his focus to study.

"Thank you… _Draco_ ," I whisper gratefully and curl myself up into the armchair, soaking in each word I read over.

We spend another two hours in the Study, each at our own vices in complete comfortable silence. After that time, he arches his back and extends his legs to stretch. "We best be going, supper should be on shortly," he says casually with a yawn. He looked tired.

I'd finished the book a while ago but went back over the interesting parts again at my own interest. Standing, I carefully slip it into the right spot on the bookshelf and walk ahead of Draco to open the doors.

"Oh, and Granger," he adds, adjusting his watch, "thanks for those preposterous, _marshmallow crumpets_ , they were delicious. When I work in my study from now on, I'll be expecting you to continue to add it to my snacks." With that, he smirks and retreats upstairs for his shower.

He took rather long showers, and in the meantime, I would lay out his evening-wear and take his laundry downstairs for washing.

On this particular laundry run I found myself… _humming._


	6. Chapter Six

**The Punishing**  
Ch.6

* * *

**Hermione's POV:**

Draco summoned me in the early hours of the morning. I hurried to prepare myself as quickly as possible to not keep him waiting. Of my selection of _uniforms_ – I hated that term – I felt around for a basic two-piece set to slip into.

_That'll do_. The panties were an acceptable cherry red with gold studs lining the band, and the matching top was a leather, strapless bustier that zipped up the front and propelled my breasts to form cleavage that appeared to spill over. I was never to bore anyone with my appearances, Cordelia explained, sewing the two of us more skimpy clothing to wrap ourselves up with.

She was forced to become more creative about how to expose our bodies. A lot of her own uniforms had her body exposed with mere straps and tassels decorating her torso just to keep it interesting. Cordelia held a stronger front than I did, but at nightfall I heard her cry in her sleep, screaming Lucius' name. Hearing it felt like a knife trailing its serrated edge over every one of my senses, leaving me shivering or with a headache.

Yet, every night, I came closer and closer to the decision that I couldn't live through this any longer. _None of us could_. Escape plans tortured my mind every night. Even if I could somehow get around Draco and his family, the twist in my stomach reminded me that I had no where to go. Lucius was the Minister of Magic in Britain… if one of his own slaves managed to escape from him, I felt sick thinking of the consequences. Regular pureblood families had their runaway slaves hunted down and killed – Lucius would make a public event of it, using my recognisable name for propaganda.

With every cry and sniff that came from Cordelia's bed beside mine, I came back to the drawing board. _I would get us out of here if it's the last thing I do_. The reality of the situation reminded me that it very well would be if it came to it…

Looking down at the sleeping Cordelia, I go to get through another day. I knock upon the doors of Malfoy's bedroom.

"Enter," comes his voice bellows from the other side.

He was in his bed, sitting up straight to reveal he hadn't slept with a shirt on. I had thought Draco's form to be leaner than it was, clearly mistaken as my eyes followed his filled out, muscular chest, arching into broad and study shoulders.

"You summoned me, Master," I ask with anticipation, letting my eyes accidentally wonder.

He stiffened and re adjusted himself before clearing his throat, "uh yes, we have last minute business to attend to today and I'll need your assistance to ensure we make it on time. We'll be travelling to London shortly; my father has sent for me as soon as possible"

I bow my head, "of course, Master."

_The Ministry?_ I questioned. What business did Draco's father have with him that concerned his workplace? To no surprise of my own, I didn't feel like I wanted to know the extent of possibilities.

"Well uh," he starts, looking around, "run the shower and pick out my clothes, when Cordelia brings up both our meals, I want them waiting on my bedside table when I get out."

I hurry across the room to his en suite. I hadn't been in here before yet and admired the hard marble and layout. Across the back was an extensive sink with endless storage space… The left; towel racks, linen closet and a loo, and to the right, a wide shower head, drain and glass divider. It was the glorified version of a shower.

I couldn't turn it on without stepping inside to reach the back wall. Hugging the sides, I twist the taps and run it at a steamy temperature. Gasping as I'm lightly sprayed up my ankles to my thighs, I skip away hastily to avoid more.

"Master, your shower is-" I beckon, except, I hit skin on skin before having the pleasure to watch where I was going.

Draco grips the sides of my arms, steading the both of us. I squeak under his hold, reflexing to stiffen me entire body… My collar shocks me as a result and I wince in pain. This one had been sharper than last, and I felt the electric shock waves reach my abdomen.

I'm unable to compose myself enough to pry away from him, and instead seem to be leaning into him more for physical support. His grip tightens on my sides.

"Granger," he bites, agitated.

Though wobbly in the knees, I hold myself up, panting and red. "I'm so sorry, Master, forgive me." I let my legs buckle, although it felt for the best. "I'm ready to accept your punishment."

I cannot look at him out of embarrassment. He was only in a towel and I'd thrown myself against him, coupled with a moment of defiance that wound me in more trouble as I was zapped.

"Get up," he insists, flatly.

I pull myself to stand, finding my balance.

"Look at me." That time was harsher. "I'm not going to beat you, Granger." But his face tells nothing else, maintaining its hard composure. I searched for more answers within his eyes, once able to show his vulnerability, but they too were shielded, and I couldn't see past the swimming greys.

_I did not understand him._

For over three years I succumbed to what was expected of me as a slave to avoid the merciless ruling of my punishments. I had lived no other way because it just _made sense_. The only aspect of control we slaves had over our own lives, was to COMPLY. That way we _knew_ , and we could prepare for any punishments that may be inflicted on our actions. It was all we had to feel like we were still our own…

A tear threatened to form over my wet-glazed eyes. _Don't let him see you cry, Hermione, not like this._

Taking in a single breath, I bring my nimble fingers to my chest and hook them on my zipper.

His eyes watch intently, flickering from there to my face and a panic fills them.

Pulling down, I unzip the bustier and open it up before him. His breath deepens, gaping at my exposed chest.

_What does he want?_

"Please," I murmur. "Punish me."

With wavering uncertainty, his hands slowly reach out and cup my breasts, caressing it as his thumbs feel over my nipples. They perk in response to his touch and he begins to press himself against me again.

He still gives me no tell-tale signs of desire to act. I let my head fall to the side, opening my bare neck and shoulder to him as if to welcome the idea. Somehow, he receives it and bends to nestle his nose in the crevice.

His lips take in some skin between the curve of my neck, and he suckles at it. He held my lower back in his palm and ushered me to bend to his body as he deepened his sucking kiss. With his grazing teeth tempting to bite down, I clench my eyes. He starts gnawing, rolling the flesh between his teeth and tongue with ferocity.

My hands brace themselves on his hips, right where the towel wrapped around himself.

_Would he remove it and take me as my punishment?_

At that moment he used his position, burrowed into my neck, to arch around and pull our faces together. He kissed me as he kissed my neck; with brutality and the need for more. He showed that by fondling for the backs of my legs and hiked me up to his waist.

Now detached from the lips, he stares hungrily at me, biting his lower lip and walks me into a wall. He presses himself against me, supporting my weight between him and the wall without the need of his arms, which he uses to his advantage to return to my breasts. His tongue joins them, attacking me with a sloppiness that lubricates my tits.

I'm panting hard, feeling every sensation from the nerves he roamed over. From the slight sting in my neck, my gradually swelling lips, his hard erection urgently rubbing against my centre and his hot mouth taking my nipple; my body was surging with more pleasure than punishment.

"Thank you, Master," I gasp, closing my eyes and leaning back into the wall. The steam of the shower fermented through the bathroom and left me feeling hot and sticky against him.

He buckled, putting me down and thrashing backwards away from me. I'm left gawking in confusion, wanting to question him but fighting against it. Draco tightens his lips in a flat line and lets his head fall in shame.

"You need to leave," he gasps, "now."

I don't want to stay a minute longer, so I scatter from his bathroom and close his door behind me.

Shaking, and half naked, I find Cordelia and she is holding a tray of food and shock filled her expression. I look down at myself, covered in deep hickeys on my chest, shoulders and neck, and slightly red from where he'd groped and forcefully held me. I'd left my bustier on the floor back there too.

Cordelia snaps shut her jaw and puts down the tray.

"Come on," she whispers, taking my hand and walking me away from the master's bathroom door.

I gulp, unsure of what to think of myself. He had looked so repulsed towards me and for some reason I couldn't shake his unapproving eyes from my memory.

_How had I done something wrong?_ I asked myself.

"What do you need to do today, Hermione?" Cordelia softly asks, holding my hands in hers.

I stutter, "prepare his clothes, set out his breakfast…" _I couldn't remember if there was more._

"You rack through his closet. He looks best in black with a charcoal undershirt, now go find some. I'll take care of his breakfast. You'll be okay," she assures.

I get up and rummage through his closet. When I peeked over my shoulder, Cordelia rushed around the room, displaying his breakfast neatly on the bedside table with cutlery to one side, as well as opening the curtains and pulling away any out-of-place items.

I found a dark blazer to pair with the charcoal undershirt that Cordelia had recommended and added a metallic silver and green pocket square for his house colours. Showing Cordelia, she nodded in approval before I laid them across Draco's bed.

Suddenly, I hear the shower turn off.

I look to Cordelia and she gives me a warm smile before taking her leave. In that moment, I appreciated everything she was…

Draco came out from his bathroom, wet and dripping. In his hand is my bustier and he hands it to me but does not look at me. His towel was secured around his waist again and he approached the bed to look over my selection. He picks up the pocket square and rubs it between his thumb.

Meanwhile, I held the bustier up to myself and zipped it back up in place. Awaiting his response, I present myself submissively.

"Nice touch on the pocket square," he mumbles with an exasperated sigh, averting his gaze from me. "You may eat."

"Thank you, Master," I say. My tray had been left on a cushioned footstool before his armchair and I knelt before it to eat. Jake had prepared porridge, seasonal fruit, scrambled eggs and toast with a tall glass of juice. Draco had a similar arrangement on his tray, only buttermilk pancakes instead of the eggs.

Sneaking a look, I notice Draco had crossed the room to his wardrobe and he stood before a full-length mirror in his pants. He then pulled together the buttons of the shirt and did them up to his throat before adjusting the collar. The blazer fitted him well and showed off his filled-out upper figure that I'd newly discovered.

"Granger," he cleared his throat. "Father's called for a meeting today in the Ministry that includes my audience. His colleagues will likely not have their slaves at work with them, and you'll be subjected to being stared at and objectified. I am to remind that the collar you wear shows that you are my property and mine alone. Do not show your face, keep it low, do not look at any man in that room or let your eyes wonder whatsoever, you are to appear completely and totally at my command. Do you understand what is expected of you?"

I swallow my toast. "Yes Master, I understand."

He says no more but joins behind me in the armchair to eat his own meal. For a minute, his hand found my head and he gently pet me. I took this confirmation reassuring and finished my breakfast.

"We must be going now…" he finally speaks up after a long period of waiting.

**Draco's POV:**

It was becoming harder to sleep with that girl in my home. I had thought sure of myself before she re entered my life, and now she was screwing with everything.

_She wanted me to punish her?_ I racked my brain. I didn't want to lay a hand on her, and when she'd exposed herself to me, requesting me to act on her, I was torn morally. Her body heat was tantalising beneath my fingertips and an evil rumble surged within to take more. I wanted her. I wanted her body, and I wanted her to drive us both to hot, loud, shuddering orgasms. So, I played with her, giving into the sin, and I tasted her.

By Merlin, I'd felt ecstatic. Every inch of her felt like a new sexual experience and I had to explore her entirely.

How had I lost so much control of myself? Only when she spoke out, _'thank you, Master,'_ I even realised how far I'd gone. She did this to me. She made me so… CONFUSED.

So, to keep my current streak, I once again had to relieve myself in the shower. It practically took nothing, having her taste still lingering in my mouth, and I came on the wall with no effort. _Fuck you Hermione Granger._

The Ministry had its own count of slaves to attend to all its staff. It hardly seemed necessary for anyone to bring their own. No, the new Wizarding World, run by my father, was far too self-convenient. We'd returned to old ages, it felt, having others wait on us and demanding the respect of others through the publication of what we owned and not who we were… _What a step back for society._

Granger and I travelled by floo powder, leaving my mother in the more than capable hands of her servants. She hadn't left her room all week, and her two slave boys practically walked around the house naked to fetch what she'd asked for.

She kept up with my request, hanging closely behind me and keeping her gaze locked to the floor. She'd let her hair down, and it shaded the sides of her face. I approached the front information desk and the receptionist gleamed, "hello Mr. Malfoy, are you here to see your father?"

She was a young girl, likely some niece to a big-shot member of the Ministry, taking an internship.

I nod, "yes, he's expecting me."

With a quick glance of the schedule before her, she looked back up to me, "he'll be waiting in the conference room. Thank you," she directed.

I nod politely and pivot on my foot towards the elevator.

In the Minister's quarters, his team worked in an abundance of extensive and elegant offices. Down the hall was a conference room divided with frosted glass. Before entering, I glimpse down to Granger, who still bowed her head and hadn't made a sound. _Merlin, I hope this worked out well._

Father sat at the head of the table, and his staff filled the remainder of the seats aside from one empty chair to his left. "Ah, Draco, good for you to join us," he welcomed me. Lined up against the walls were slaves, all in security collars and matching black bodysuits. I took grasp of Granger's wrist and guided her to stand by me in my seat. I pretended not to notice the eyes wondering over her. I knew she was _interesting_ to them from their stock-standard Ministry slaves.

"Hello Father," I greeted coolly as I sat. I recognised across from me Mr. Nott and other elite members of the pureblood.

"Minister," a man mid-way down the table began, "we have compacted your numbers."

Lucius' interest peaked and he gave an intrigued smile.

"You are looking at a budget of 60K, sir," the man - I believed to recognise as one of the Macmillan family members - refers to his parchment layout.

Another man pipes up, "correct, Minister, and we've taken the liberty of taking those numbers and applying to what necessities may be needed."

I quizzically looked to my Father. He noticed and gave me a grin.

"What are you planning, Father?" I ask.

"As it happens Draco, we are approaching the winter solstice, and I've decided on a Yule celebration to be held by the Malfoy family," he proudly snickers. "I felt you may want to run over the finer details."

I nod. I didn't think I _really_ needed to be a part of the planning for this extravagant event, but I did have a feeling in my gut for the real reason why I was here.

"Of course, father."

Several staff huddle their parchments together and pass them up the table in front of me. I'm faced with extensive spreadsheets, lists and figures. _Guest list, decorations, food, entertainment_ … Under that particular category I was overwhelmed with what was written.

I clear my throat, "this doesn't appear rather traditional," I tell him.

Yule was meant be an elegant and classical celebration. I doubted a masquerade theme would uphold itself under the substantial number of exotic dancers, strippers, cages, nudist servers and especially segregated pleasure rooms. _My father would send slaves home with his guests as a parting gift…_

"We've decided to abandon the tradition. It does not cater to our needs." He'd looked down on me harshly, "surely with your new _play thing_ , you'd understand why our slaves are necessary to the event."

More eyes find Granger, many men looking up and down her body with dangerously hungry eyes. They were _fantasizing of her attendance to this ball_. My fists curled under the table, and reflexively I beckon for Granger to come to my lap. She places her delicate self over my knee and keeps her head towards me, away from prying eyes. I stroke her back affectionately.

"I suppose you're right," I tell my father. "Now then, tell me more about the serving menu. I say we should add a much larger of quantity of booze to this list. How could you possibly expect your guests to have a good time on this sad excuse of variety?"

Lucius plants a viciously eager grin to his lips, curling his fingers at his chin.

"Lower the stock on ale and butterbeer, add more firewhiskey, brandy and liqueur's," I add, "that ought to show our guests a better time." Having distracted the room with recalculations, the lingering eyes were off my girl, and she'd softened in my lap. I kept my arm lounged around her, scooping under and keeping a hand firmly to her ass cheek.

She looked undeniably scrumptious in that cherry red leather bustier. I couldn't decide if I liked it better on her or off. Around these uncontrollable buffoons, I more preferred to have her covered up. They needed to get the message she was not at my disposal to entertain them…

"Excellent ideas, Draco," Father turned to me with a proud look upon his face.

A knock taps at the conference room door. A woman with hard features pops her head in, "Minister, the uniforms you requested are here," she says.

Behind her, twelve or more girls walk formally in one line, each dressed in excessively seductive slave-wear. My throat hitches and I grip the arms of the chair.

"Ah, yes!" Lucius cheers gleefully. His colleagues all swivel around to gaze upon the slaves and their costumes. They openly comment to one another of the ones they found most appealing and what they would do to them, going as far as sedating them for personal kicks.

"I can't fucking stand when they cry," the male next to him replies in agreement.

"Well, I must say, you've done well Ginevra," father compliments the selection. "What are your thoughts, Draco?"

I bite down to force myself to look. Each outfit is as chaotic as the last, and some are dressed to a minimum of nipple tassels and chains. "Hard to say," I clear my throat.

"You know," Lucius starts, "what your slave girl is wearing is particularly interesting. Would you send her up amongst the others?"

Granger tenses herself and I feel it against my leg.

My blood boils. With each passing second, I'm more at risk to his wrath. "Of course," I gulp, pathetically adhering to his wishes. I could have said no! I could have convinced him otherwise.

"Get up," I command, and she rises to her own feet. "Join the ranks."

She looks out of place amongst the others because inside I know she's scared and uncomfortable to be subjected to this unsolicited gawking. I had to listen to the oohs and aahs of those around me.

"Doesn't she look tasty," the one closest to me snickers to himself. I wanted to take my wand and snap his neck for the thoughts I knew were rolling through his filthy mind.

"Draco," Mr. Nott beckons, "that's quite a stunning pet you've acquainted. I know she's just my son's type. You must let me know if you are thinking of selling…"

"Unfortunately, I won't be for quite some time. I'm rather… attached to this one for my personal pleasure," I seethe, trying to hide my writhing anger.

Many 'aww' in disappointment, taking their eyes back to her.

"Father," I start hurriedly, "I think number three would best suit this event, don't you?"

The third girl in line was in black and green, an easy win when it came to my father so long as our house colours were demanding attention.

"Ah, perfect. Then it's settled," he finalises and shoos away the bombardment. I look to Hermione immediately and summon her back to my lap where she belonged. Caressing her harder than I should be, I kept her closely against me for the rest of the meeting and shot dagger eyes to those who stared.

_No one else could have her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, wow, the response this has gotten is mind blowing, thanks to all of you for checking me out.


	7. Chapter Seven

**The Punishing**  
Ch.7

* * *

**Draco's POV:**

It had been a whole fucking week already since I took advantage of Granger. Merlin, why was I such a pussy? Here I was, 17 years-old and cowering because I'd kissed a girl. _Oh, but it was so much more than that and you know it_. I'd wanted to take her. To strip those hot cherry red panties from her hips and thrust into her with no warning. I wanted to fist up her hair and bend her over in front of me. _Oh, fuck me,_ imagining what her orgasm face would look like got me hard.

I knew because on our days spent in the study where I was _supposed_ to be reading up on Wizarding law, and she read a new book, I'd glance over and find her pulling all sorts of expressions, whether it be out of amusement, confusion, bewilderment, shock, etc. I could see her brain ticking and processing all that she read, and she devoured one book after another with an eagerness I adored.

It felt somewhat strange, knowing I should technically withhold books on magic from a muggle-born, when they aren't to learn such things… With father still working in the Ministry until next week for the Yule ball, I'd just been letting her pick as she pleased from our collection. One of the days, she'd hesitated and picked up a book she'd already read on _baking_. I knew that didn't stimulate her brain as she desired, and reflexively found myself selecting a volume on Intermediate Transfiguration. She graciously accepted and nestled into the armchair to plant her nose in the pages. All day, she found new ways to get comfortable; on the floor, pacing, on the armchair, foot stools, upside down, halfway over each. It was amusing for me.

Outside the study, however, I seemed to shut down and ignore her. It was as though within that room, she was just a girl, and outside of it, suddenly transformed into someone I owned… I couldn't bring myself to look at her after what I'd done.

"Master," she called on me, waiting in the doorframe of my room. Today she was in _pink_. It was a peculiar item of baby pink and white polka dots, detailed with small pink bow ties nestled both at the tip of her panties' waistband and between her cleavage. To top it off, the frilly suspenders clipped to some knee-high white socks also with pink bows. It was uncomfortably cute.

_She'd look cuter on her knees with my cock in her mouth…_

"Yes?"

"Dinner is served, Master." She bows her head and CURTSIES. Fucking _CURTSIES_. IN THE PINK POLKA-DOT BOW TIE LINGERIE.

Groaning, I stood in my chair, "Granger," I demand her attention, " _what_ are you wearing?"

She's startled and looks down at her figure. She blushes… _pink like those fucking bow ties._

"My uniform, Master," she gulps, nervously.

"Come here," I tell her, and she walks around the desk. I mount my leg to sit on its edge before her and hold her waist as I mull over the finer details of the lingerie. _No, this will not do_. My fingers trail up her bare skin to the bra, and I tear the bow from its material. I do the same with her stockings and panty. She squeaks with each rip. With the last tug, her panty split open and revealed to me a glimpse of the triangle of skin above tell-tale lips. It barely held itself together on her. Granger's hands go to cover herself and the collar goes off.

"Ah!" she cries out.

And I saw it… _her orgasm face…_

I gnawed at my lip, fighting the tingling feeling it gave off. She was in pain, and my sick brain saw it as pleasure. _Get a fucking grip on yourself, Malfoy, you pathetic git_ , I cursed myself.

My pants tightened instantly, compensating for the bulge happening within. And Merlin, it was really bulging. My cock throbbed with a need like never before. After this last month of her within house, it now DEMANDED pleasure that wasn't my own hand in the shower every day. I'd had to jerk off _that_ much since.

Granger composed herself, flushed and lightly beaded with sweat. That's when her eyes saw my arousal and she accidentally let herself show a look of surprise.

I cross my legs – though it proved difficult – to cover myself from her gaze. I would not have her getting any _ideas_ again. I couldn't put either of us through that, even if I'd get some much-needed relief.

"I'm sorry, Master, I'll just-" she sputters, embarrassed.

_How the fuck was she the one bashing?_

She makes her exit, in a ripped pair of panties, and I'm left hard and confused… it started to feel like more regular of an occurrence. This one wouldn't be fixed with a simple shower-wank… and for the first time since the early ripening of puberty, I was forced to resort to unpleasant thoughts to aid the situation. _Dwarves, moaning Myrtle, mermaids, baby mandrakes_ ; I'd thought of everything. My mind flashes to Pansy and I feel my erection faulter.

_Oh. Understandably, a regrettable experience._

Mother had joined me this time for supper. She was clothed, although not far off from drunk. The wine glass in her hand was near empty, which seemed normal enough, until noting the two empty bottles nearby.

"Evening, Mother," I bend to kiss her cheek.

"Evening is it? Oh, I must have slept in…" she tells herself but thinks nothing of it. Whenever she wasn't on her medication, she took the alternative of sleeping. "How are you my darling?" she throws me a smile.

That's the only time I saw her smile anymore, when it was induced with alcohol. She had her fair share of problems before; having to maintain herself at the highest of expectations for the Malfoy name while Father buried it deeper and deeper with every new scandal. But I felt that since the Punishing, she'd lost herself, and I hadn't known why.

"I'm well, mother. Tell me, what are your thoughts on us hosting the Yule celebration here?" I asked, bringing up conversation. A glass of firewhiskey was begging my attention and I brought the honey liquid to my thirsty lips.

She rolls her eyes, "oh that stupid thing, yes your father sent the details over by owl, and it looks _exhilarating_ ," she giggles to herself sarcastically. "I do rather hate those colleagues of his. Absolute filthy scum that lot is."

I escape a laugh. "You're quite right, I'm not entirely fond of them either."

The servants come out with dinner; bouillabaisse, accompanied with delicate entrées. Granger places mine down before me and then stands to my side, awaiting further instruction. Charles and Finn attend to my mother and top up her wine glass.

"Thank you," I address her, "help yourselves to anything you'd like and you may relieve Jake also."

She smiles and nods, "yes Master, thank you."

"No, no" mother beckons, and the four come to a halt nervously. "I'd like my boys to stay close, bring your meals here," she slurs.

I smirk to myself and look to Granger, nodding to instruct the same of her. They each return with their dinner trays and place them by their master's. I permit her to sit at the table.

"Draco, darling," mother chimes again. "Your slave girl has broken underwear," she points out, amused.

Indeed, from a snap in the stitching, her panties were just dangling from her hips in a shredded state.

"I can dispose of them if it pleases you, Master," Granger whispered timidly.

_Oh, fuck me it would._

Coughing I look to my mother, her elbow was propped on the table and she leant into it as she watched intently. "Uh, sure," I swallow hard, and look down to my food. In the corner of my eyes, she yanks at the material and it gives out easily with a soft snap. They remain in a bundle on top of her knee, but all I see is her pussy guarded by those juicy thighs of hers.

Granger had successfully gained a significant amount of weight in the last few weeks. My meal plan to force feed her large portioned food had started to pay off. No longer could I see the skeleton of her pelvis, spine and gawking collarbones, which had now all softened under a cushion of body fat.

"Hermione, is it?" Mother's voice pulls me from my hungry thoughts. I grow nervous.

She swivels her head and meets my mother's eyes submissively, "yes Mistress."

"You're quite the pretty one, aren't you? Yes, indeed. You remind me of when I was younger; we had similar bone structure." She gives a demonstration, pulling at her aged cheeks to pry back the years as though she were giving herself a face lift. The spirit of my mother was light hearted and warm tonight. I enjoyed seeing her so _carefree_ …

I watched in awe as she conversed with her two servants, Charles and Finn, as though they were her guests and not her slaves. With the amount of time she spent with them in her chambers, I was, for lack of a better word, _glad_ to see her this way, drunk or not. At least they could make her happy in this miserable house.

I was at ease with Granger here too. She focused on devouring her meal and paid little attention to what was around her. With every shifting movement she made I was quick to steal a peep. A light sweat gradually built up down my back during the dinner.

Following the dessert Cordelia brought out; a special request of toasted marshmallows and crumpets, I stood to prepare myself for bed. Granger followed me lead, standing also, and for a moment I'd forgotten her clothing situation. Her pretty, pink pussy lips were gleaming with moisture. The cute polka-dot bra and suspenders didn't help either, leaving her a sense of innocence that I so wanted to be the one to destroy.

Stripping myself of my blazer, I throw it behind her and tie the arms around her waist. They are long and thick enough to cover most of her. "Go shower and change for bed," I instruct her, sending her away before a reel of images, displaying how many positions I could have her in over the dining table, rolled past my eyes

Alone with Mother, she stood and gracefully walked towards me. "You're a good boy, Draco. I see the way you care about her."

"It's not like that," I bite my tongue.

"Except when it is… be careful son, this new world doesn't have a place for people with soft hearts anymore. Remember that." The light I had been lucky enough to witness dimmed like a candle flame and was replaced with her emotional barrier once again.

Her parting words struck me. I couldn't shake what questions I had for her for the remainder of the night. The main one begging; _what happened to you?_

**Hermione's POV:**

I was left with so many questions, and I'd wanted to bring them up to Cordelia to see if they'd struck her interest too, but it would be hard to tell. Gossiping of our master's was not allowed, even if she had helped me out before.

Why was Narcissa unable to stay sober? Did she support her husband's cause? Had something traumatic happened to her to trigger this? Or was it all just an effect of the booze and pills? Jake was asleep, and Cordelia and I prepared ourselves for bed. I sat crouched in a barrel tub, tipping a bucket of warm water over myself to clean the day's layers of sweat and grime. Cordelia was brushing her hair but as usual, faced away from the mirror.

Draco had been avoiding me. At first, I sensed it was because he was repulsed of the thought of touching a mudblood, but I wasn't so sure…

Everything leading up to now showed me that he was fighting something within himself. From the acts he puts on in public settings, to the hesitation and resistance back home. He didn't seem to want to punish me at all… _How could that be?_ I'd never come across a master like him before. My fears told me to expect the worst when he finally did lash out, but I felt deeper down, that Draco Malfoy; pureblood, Slytherin, and son of the Minister of Magic, may not want to harm his slave. It was a difficult thought to process to say the least when all I knew was the glee master's took in punishing their slaves.

What did he gain from restraining himself from punishing me? It made no sense.

His hesitation to use me to pleasure himself was most confusing of all. I'd done as I was expected… I orally pleased my master and offered my body as means of punishment. And while evidence deemed that he clearly enjoyed himself, he had never gone through with it. He had wanted to punish me then, but that only nagged on why he didn't.

What was the connection?

Finishing my bath, I stood, releasing a wash of water to run from my hair and down my body.

An idea came to me… _No, Hermione, you mustn't,_ I warned myself. It was against my role as a slave! Only… when I caught myself in the water stained mirror, I no longer heard the warnings.

I made my way to Draco Malfoy's chambers.

He wasn't in his bedroom, but I heard commotion in the bathroom. Stepping lightly on my feet, I opened its doors and slipped through. Steam disoriented my vision, but I made him out in the shower.

He was hunched over, leaning his arm on the wall as the other was reached down to between his legs. He then let out a sound of both contentment and frustration. Able to make out the defining details of what he was up to, I watched in fascination as he stroked himself in the shower.

I decided against making my presence known, standing still and silent as I took the sight in. His legs were scrumptiously muscular, rounding into a firm yet plump arse on his backside. It looked inviting to grasp with him leaning over that way. I found myself feeling hot, and not due to the steam frothing from his shower.

These sinful feelings of arousal from the notorious Draco Malfoy proved to be a problem. When I looked at him, I saw no relation to the twelve-year-old boy who tormented me at Hogwarts, but a _sexy_ man with a _big_ secret. If these feelings were anything to go off, then I had to try.

His head budges slightly, as he shifts his weight to the other leg, and he throws a double-take at me. I don't react when he notices me. Shock and embarrassment flood's his face as he gaped in disbelief. His slave had entered his personal chambers, fully naked, and watched him jerk off. _I'd take this long to find the most correct reaction also…_

"GRANGER!" he seethes, baring his teeth.

I tuck one foot behind my leg and narrow my posture meekly.

"What the fuck made you think you could come in here?" he interrogated me, still processing what was happening before him. The way he took in my body, his biggest question proved to be about my lack of clothing.

I inch closer a few steps, "I came to see if you needed anything before bed, Master," I answer.

He runs his eyes up and down me. This was the first time he'd seen me fully naked. Uniforms were one thing, but bare was a full exposure of vulnerability.

"I can help," I add quietly, looking down to his throbbing hard on.

"No, Granger, I don't need your help. You shouldn't be here!" He grumbles with disbelief. He almost appeared scared.

I kept inching closer until I was at the opening of his shower, "you're right, I shouldn't be here. I came without your permission… I'll need to be punished."

_Take the bait._

Draco panted, visibly distressed with what was before him.

"No," he insists, clenching his fists.

I bite my lip, stalking him, "please, Master, let me amend myself for acting out of orders…"

He says nothing this time, unsure of what to do. I take the initiative to sway his answer, closing the gap to kiss him. He holds back, not complying to my lips at first, but eventually fails and brings his tongue to glide between us.

Draco's hand ran up my bare back, and scrunch into my hair as he deepened the kiss. His breath tasted of firewhiskey from dinner, leaving his mouth hot with lingering liquor. I took his bottom lip between mine, rolling it sensually, but he was having none of that and took control by parting way for his tongue. It danced with mine, gliding with finesse.

He gave a whimpering moan and pulled me into the shower. As the water pelted my back, I felt a hot rush, stipulated by my senses being tormented all at once.

"You're playing a dangerous game," Draco warns, cupping my jaw. His hands are large compared to my delicate frame; from his wrist levelled at my chin to his fingers creeping behind my ears. He applied more pressure there to keep me still, revealing his darker side.

"Please, Master," I pushed at his urges.

As though there had been invisible chains restraining him, he broke free, gripping my waist and lifting me between his naked body and the wall. Skin on skin, our bodies felt moulded together.

_So far so good_. I reflected. He'd taken the bait, and I concluded that there was no reason to doubt he was sexually attracted to me. _How far would he take it?_ If I could influence that, maybe he'd go all the way and it'd prove my theory. It seemed when the opportunity presented itself to act upon his urges, he resisted without my help. When I'm supposed to be subjected to harmful punishment, he would not… And yet, this hardly felt like punishment.

He buried his face between my cleavage, slurping the water that trickled down my skin. Running his tongue over my breast, he took the hard nipple in his mouth and suckled at it. The tiny nerves within sparked at my core and I couldn't suppress my need to moan out.

I see Draco smirk to himself and he pulls my face to his in a rough kiss, holding the nape of my neck with force. I let my fingers entangle themselves in the blonde locks he'd grown out. I loved the way his hair fell in front of his eyes when it was fluffed and dried. It gave him a softer look; one of boyish charm and mystery. Perhaps one of the many reasons my feelings persisted to trust him despite all his name stood to be.

He grunts into my skin, ravishing every inch of it, "I want you," he bites, _literally_. His teeth fondled at the side of my breast and he bit down and pulled at the tissue like a rabid dog. I cried out, and at the same time I feel his hand slipped down and cupped between my legs. "Now, miss Granger," he hissed, beginning to rub in small circular motions, "I know _that_ isn't wet from the shower." He was right, lathering his fingers was a substance of thick, hot and slimy evidence that I was turned on. "I want to be inside you," he grunts.

I begin to sense an inner demon coming out of him. His eyes were dark with lust, and the pressure of his body against mine, hands and mouth, all increased to be as close to me as he could bring himself.

"Punish me," I whisper, reminding him he was in control.

With no warning, Draco Malfoy dropped me. I braced myself against the wall. Was this all a waste of time? Had I put myself in a worse-off position, only for him to reject me again? It was beginning to feel that way as he collected his breath and visually ticked over his options.

_Please_ , I silently begged. My core ached with need, I was sopping wet between my legs, and unquestionably my better sense of judgement was compromised. _I wanted him too_. I wanted to _feel_ him take me if it meant this confusion would end. I didn't want to cry at night anymore and I didn't want to live in fear without the answers I so desperately needed. Was I dealing with a master that was just as cruel as all the rest were, meaning I could shut off my emotions again? Or was he always going to be this unpredictable? My emotional range couldn't keep up with him any longer.

Draco feels for the taps and turns the water off. Steam still filled the shower, and the only sounds that echoed off the tiles were heaving breathing and petite drips of water falling from our bodies.

"Come," he hoarsely breathes, making his leave from the en suite. I follow, prancing behind as I rack my brain for predictions.

A beating? A flogging? A stern lecture seemed his style for sure?

He stops abruptly and holds me by the hips.

I wait for it, closing my eyes, but nothing comes. I only feel… _oh god_. Shaken with a fright, the collar zaps me, hitching my breath. He was crouched down and with gentle movements flicked his tongue over my pussy, trailing between its lips.

_This had never happened to me before_ , I panicked.

With more certainty, he eases me back on the bed and spreads my legs while he knelt on the side. He started low, circling my entrance with the tip of his tongue, tasting my juices, and gradually brought it up in short licking motions.

I grew hot, feeling a pulse kneading within my clit the closer he got. When he suckled around my nub of most sensitive nerves, I shuddered and hitched my knee up for support. Circularly, then side to side, he variated his technique to tease my clit. I writhed against his sheets, fisting bundles of it in my hands.

"Oh, Merlin," I grimaced, eyes rolling to the back of my head. Applying more pressure with his tongue and hooking his arms under my thighs, I could feel an oncoming sensation. Feverishly, he flicked across it from side to side. I was too far gone, panting desperately as I felt my insides clench.

"Oh yes, Master, oh please," I screamed out. There was a wave-like rush overpowering my body and my legs shook wildly, but he pinned them down and kept up his pace.

Finally, scooping down to my entrance, he licks up my juices.

I'm flat across his bed, eyes closed and sore. _Was that… an orgasm?_ Admittedly, I'd never actually had one before, but knew that was an experience I'd never felt in the past. I had never explored my own body nor felt pleasure from my previous master's having sex with me to result in _that_ feeling.

"Granger," Draco rises from the side of his bed. His chin is wet, and I watch him wipe at it with his thumb as he gets on the bed and lays up against the pillows, sporting a pulsating hard on. "I want you to suck me off the way you did at Nott's party…" he whispers sensually.

I roll off my back and bring myself to him. He watched me greedily, yearning for his demand to be met.

A sound vibrated between his chest and throat when I gasped his length. He was rock hard and veiny, dribbling with pre cum. I licked it up, tasting a warm and tangy note and he hissed through his teeth, slightly bucking his hips. "Don't tease," he barks.

As I stroked him, the foreskin rolled down and revealed his pink tip. I take him in between my lips, swirling around my tongue where I knew he was most sensitive as my hand worked at him beneath. He gritted his teeth and clamped his eyes shut tight. Sneaking a look back down at me, he brings his hand to my head and massages his fingertips through my hair with approval. I take him deeper into my mouth where it nearly breached my throat and bobbed around him.

Draco's toes curled up and he released a harmony of moans.

"I need you," he seethes, pulling at the sheets, "NOW."

His fingers wrap under my chin and I release his cock from my mouth, leaving a trail of saliva and pre cum down my chin that I swipe my tongue across. He sits up to meet me and takes my mouth in his with a burning passion.

I'm lost to bliss, complying to his body's needs as we roll around his mattress. I'm flipped to my back and he hovers over me, using his knees to budge my legs apart. With little patience left, he reaches down and takes a hold of himself and lines his cock to my entrance, pushing through my lips.

Draco eases through, an erupting gasp of pleasure falling from his lips as he fills me. I'm tightly bound around his erection, able to feel all of nine inches of sin…

Pumping himself inside me, he arched his back for balance so he couldn't risk losing rhythm. As he clashed against the back walls within my vagina, I succumbed to a state of ecstasy with my eyes rolled into the back of my head and my body numb with impatience. He continued to snap his hips, desperate to fuck me faster, and I too wanted to feel the boundaries he could push upon me.

"Fuck, _Granger_ ," he groaned.

I raised my knees and the two of us let out a long, pitched sigh of gratitude, then uncontrollably, I felt myself shifting up the bed with every thrust. He holds me tightly at my hips, slightly pinning down. I felt a sweet sting among the walls of my vagina, the friction tied up with how little time I'd had to adjust to his mass size, gave off a gentle burning sensation. It hardly was my main focus when he repetitively thrashed into what I could only assume to be the infamous, G-spot.

Soon enough, that already-familiar tingle I'd felt early resurged. I was going to cum, and Draco Malfoy had been the one to undo me.

I huffed, opening my mouth to make way for a scream I couldn't contain.

" _So fucking sexy_ ," I heard Draco mutter through his teeth, and he pushed his tongue into his cheek as his body went rigid. "Oh I'm going to cum, Granger," he sings, lolling his head back.

Watching his abs as they shuddered and tensed before my eyes, revealed the velocity of what he'd emptied inside of me. His eyelids faltered, twitching as he fought to keep them open, but exhaustion won.

My body hummed with the remnants of tonight's events from the tingling sensation buzzing in my core to the concoction of body fluid soaking up between my legs and likely dripping into the sheets. Yet my mind drew a blank as if it were all an out-of-body experience that I hadn't actually attended, because I struggled to convince myself that I, Hermione Granger, slept with Draco Malfoy.

I rolled my head to the side and examined my sin. Draco was peacefully asleep beside me, his features soft with fatigue… Most of all, when I looked at him, it didn't match the way I knew I should feel. _He's not the same Slytherin boy from then_ , I realised.

_Who are you now?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone x   
> Checking in with you all to ask; am I keeping good pace with this? Are the character's consistent enough? Is it going in the right direction?   
> Would love the feedback, thanks lovelies x


	8. Chapter Eight

**The Punishing**  
Ch.8

* * *

**[No one's POV]**

Midnight had come and gone. It was maybe 4am at best, but they both felt the sun was on the horizon. Draco may have gotten a solid two hours of shut eye that night, but the shifting in his bed tore him from his slumber. It was something he was well used to by now; insomnia had never been kind to the Slytherin heartthrob. He didn't dare to move as though anxious it would make his new reality disappear; like if he rolled over, she would be gone from his sheets, leaving him to believe it had all been a dream. But it most certainly hadn't been a dream.

For Draco, as he nibbled quietly on his fingernails, he pondered over his feelings. Instead of a devil and angel on his shoulder, he felt as if he'd developed a severe case of schizophrenia. Ultimately, he was at war with his inner demons. He wanted nothing to do with slave ownership if it threatened his strong morals. Draco inevitably realised he'd been swayed throughout his childhood to value the things a Malfoy should, but he never got the message that slavery was part of that deal. Years spent tormenting students on Hogwarts grounds, believing he was the greatest pupil to walk its halls because his parents had told him he was… he felt like such a fool.

But was he a bad person? He wondered quizzically. Surely the fear and guilt he now felt, stood for something that he couldn't be all bad. It didn't feel as reassuring with his slave naked and curled up behind him now. In fact, he felt more like his father than ever, and it killed him inside. Draco feared of a future run explicitly by status and fuelled by the greed, wealth and demoralisation of the lower classes, including muggle-born's. Only a few years ago did that same idea once seem pleasant until he gained sight of what other things were slipping away. Now, he was without a sober and doting mother, a sane father and trustworthy friends at the least.

_And then there was that one day_ … A day that for Draco, changed everything.

He persisted, he could never be the man his Father became after that day. Not even finally bedding his slave could compare to what happened then. Deeply inhaling, he was now less dizzy than before and took the initiative to roll over. She had her bare back towards him, and her soft brown curls rolled off it in waves.

_There are so many scars_ … He realised. She was always in these tiny little outfits every day and he hadn't even noticed. They mostly looked like whips, or the strike of a wand perhaps. Three were especially worst, tearing her skin open from the nape of her neck to her tailbone, where it had healed over as a puffy, pink, ugly scar.

Draco wanted to throw up.

This was her world and he felt part of the problem, _and he fucking loathed it_. The day the Punishing truly began, he recalled himself hanging from pillars to get a better view of all the evacuating muggle-born, Granger amongst them, and he cackled and added fuel to the flame. What a stupid boy, he cursed himself. He hoped even a brainwashed twelve-year-old hadn't hoped for this outcome upon them. Some had been his friends even, he later realised. They took the half-bloods away too, and that had been taken particularly hard by the wizarding society.

He thought back to his conversation with Nott about the Bulstrode's. There had been a girl in their year; Millicent, and she was a Slytherin. She was also half blood, and although her family name was part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, their recent offspring of mixed blood was enough of a reason to pry that girl away from her family too. Her parents had gone mad, and her wizard father went on a killing rampage in his neighbourhood. _Did they really suspect him of kidnapping Nott's mother too?_ It was all strange, yet a perfect example of the messed-up world he had to share with them.

He wanted to reach out and feel the scars upon her back but restrained himself from doing so. _He never would lay a hand on her again if she could say otherwise_. So, he didn't want to risk it.

Morning beckoned for his arise, and Draco shuffled from his bed with the same aching and tiredness as always and went to the shower. The warm water on his face soothed him, taking away that stale feeling the dry nights caused his skin. _That was the price of his trademark Malfoy, porcelain complexion._

Hermione sighed to herself and after feeling that he'd left the bed, she shimmied to sit up against the pillows. She took a moment to admire his bed, after all, it was much better than the one in the dorm. The mattress moulded to her body, the pillows were plump and fluffed and the duvet hugged her frame all night. Maybe under different circumstances, she would have been able to get some much-needed rest, but she couldn't remember how a good night's sleep felt.

Her body was still naked, she realised, and although she was alone, she tugged the sheets to cover her chest. It felt as though his skin was still against hers, tingling with the memory of how utterly _amazing_ he had made her feel.

She couldn't make out why, and it bothered her immensely. Hermione had a sinking feeling in her gut when she thought about how _guilty_ she should be feeling for actually enjoying herself with a master. It felt like a betrayal to everything she stood for.

Unfortunately, she didn't particularly feel that guilty at all. Instead, Hermione clung to the revelation that _Draco Malfoy_ was different to the others, and she knew that now. Previously, he had never laid a harming hand on her, nor did he seem to wish to. When it came to sexuality, well, she knew he desired her and clearly had some _moral compass_ ticking in his brain. Pushing him last night proved that with all his hesitation and denial.

In her own conclusion, _he cared._

She felt a shiver and it left her body warm like honey running down freshly pressed toast.

"Master Draco?" a silent knock came at the door. Cordelia poked her head in cautiously, and she discovered that he was not in his bed and instead, the girl she _usually_ shared a room with was there. Her head swivelled and locked in on the bathroom door where the sound of his shower was coming from. "You slept in the master's chambers," she noted softly to her with disbelief.

Hermione nodded with her lips flatlining, "yes, we were _physical_ last night. It was the first time we'd done so…" She knew it was risky discussing her relations with the master so openly, but she had a feeling Cordelia was more than curious.

"I see," she cleared her throat, "at this time, Master Draco usually gives me a list of food preparations for him and yourself, but I see he is occupied. Otherwise, the day goes about as usual for us. People are arriving from the Ministry to begin setting up for the ball this weekend, too."

Hermione chews on her swollen lip.

"I'll bring you a uniform," Cordelia adds, and Hermione could swear she saw a hidden smile behind her lips as she left the room.

Hermione looked around and decided to draw the curtains. Behind her, the voice of her Master took her attention away from the stunning view of the gardens, lit by the morning glow.

"Granger, uh," he starts, "you may use my facilities to clean yourself off from last night."

Curtly, she pivoted on her heels and walked with a tall posture towards him. He gulped at her naked presence again.

"Yes, Master, thank you," she licked at her dry lips. She sharply inhaled and took a chance on speaking up again, "were you satisfied with my punishment last night, Master?"

She watched in fascination as his throat clenched. To him it felt like another invitation, and he swallowed hard to find the right answer.

"Yes, very much so," he admitted coolly, taking a glance at her inflamed lips that he wanted to take between his again.

Hermione strides past, standing under the warm water and letting it run through her hair. Draco couldn't help it, he looked over his shoulder and watched her drench herself under the faucet. Moments like this she looked more mundane; like it was any other morning she was having a shower, but as a free woman. She appeared carefree.

"If my master wishes to join me-" her voice fluttered off the tiles, and his eyes pulled up to her face. She wasn't staring back at him; her attention was to the floor as she lathered soap onto her body. "He is welcome to," she finished daintily.

_What harm was a shower?_ He concluded, stripping the towel from his waist and entering the space he'd been washing himself in not 5 minutes ago.

She was wet from head to toe, glistening with the running water that cascaded down her perfect arse. He was so hungry for it.

She turned herself around, rinsing the soapy bubbles from her upper body. Her eyes defiantly shifted down to take in the sight of him too, and she rolled her bottom lip between her teeth teasingly. Taking some shower gel in her palms she shuffled a step closer and reached out, beginning to rub it into his chest. He didn't oppose, rather welcoming the idea of her washing him.

"Granger," he breathed. It hadn't been in the same tone as light night. This one was silky and _sorry_.

She stopped and raised her fawn-like eyes to his, calling for him to keep going.

"You don't," he struggled, "I mean, if you don't want to… I won't violate you." He had barely been able to bring the end of his sentence to a whisper. Luckily for the close-proximity and aid of a fully tiled bathroom, she still heard.

But importantly, _she understood._

He wanted her. He had shown that again and again, but no… what pulled him back was her. She shed a tear, and it fell amongst the other droplets of water down her face.

At that moment, not as his slave, but as Hermione Granger, she crept up to stand on the balls of her feet and planted a soft kiss on his lips. It was her way of saying thank you.

_He understood._

**Hermione's POV:**

Today appeared like any other on the surface, but internally, I felt something that resembled an emotion I used to associate as a memory. I wasn't sure if it was safety, thankfulness or happiness. Perhaps something else entirely, but something was lifted.

We sat in his study. He studied and I read. Today was a volume in the series _The Standard Book of Spells by Miranda Goshawk_. Two days ago, I reread the first two, recalling them from my first few years at Hogwarts. Yesterday I read another two, and today I pried into volume five with one more to go. I had expected to be finished and moving on by now, but I was drawn to glancing to Malfoy every few minutes. He would be busily hunched over his wizarding law books and studying furiously, or alternatively, relaxing back in his large chair to take a break. That was when he'd look back at me.

I didn't smile, but I held his glance.

I suppose it was the overwhelming discoveries that had unravelled themselves before me in such a short span of time. I was still wrangling my brain over them all now and it was keeping me from my reading. Most of all, I wanted to know what had changed… Taking more notice, I realised there even was a level of respect he showed Cordelia when he addressed her also. Not having the need to deal with Charles and Finn, I couldn't be sure, _but_ there was still Jake.

Jake had been becoming increasingly hostile lately. I'd had dishes thrown to me that smashed at my feet, and he'd leave me to take care of it myself. He hated me, and it made my blood boil the more I keened into his attitude; acting as though he was above us all… What made him think that, I wasn't sure.

Cordelia had slipped a rather insinuating uniform into Draco's room for me this morning. I had found it waiting on the master's bed when we came from the shower. It was an elegant Italian black, lace bra with metallic, emerald embroidery and a mesh, black panty with similar fine, green detail to match. The cheeky nod at Malfoy's colours seemed to please him too as he grew aroused watching me put them on.

The door of the Malfoy study cracked open. In the corner of my eye, Draco lifted his head. A gentleman in black robes and ogling spectacles entered, a stack of paperwork in his palms. He bowed to Draco, and his eyes took a moment to flicker to me. Only, now he had physically become distressed.

"Oh," he stuttered, flustering on the spot, "Mr. Malfoy, are you aware your slave is reading magical content!" He grew red in the face, about to burst like a pimple. I could only slam the book shut, whether it drew more attention to me or not. Draco looked to me in panic but reserved his focus on this man from the Ministry… where Lucius worked.

_Oh no._

"Hello Freud," Draco stiffened, encircling his mahogany desk where he perched himself atop of, "you must be here for the ball." His voice was tense, as if angry with himself too.

"Mr. Malfoy, I must protest, this is simply _unacceptable_ , and I think your father would agree with me this cannot go unpunished either," then his long, bony fingers twiddled against the parchment as though documenting the incident.

Draco grew visibly pissed off as his nostrils flared yet held his composure. I noticed his finger nails curling under the desk and scratching at the paint.

"I don't think so, Freud," he bit with warning. "You won't be saying a word of this; not to anyone, and _especially_ not my Father."

Fraud scoffed, "I will not be _bullied_ by a seventeen-year old BOY. You are clearly allowing your slave to read the material! That is illegal, as I'm sure you would well know. Slaves must NEVER be allowed to use or learn about magic so that we may breed it out of them," he spat through his greasy moustache. His bulging eyes, too big for his skinny face, were twitching also.

Draco raised his wand to Freud, and I gasp, nervously clenching at the arms of the chair. Freud snarls, doubting his theat. I wasn't so sure that was wise.

"Then I'll tell you again," he starts, eyebrows digging lower and lower the angrier he became, "you will give your word that you won't repeat any of what you saw today... You will take it to your grave if need be." The wavering in his voice scared me.

"You're joking if you think you'll get away with this," he raises his hands. "I'll see her hanged."

Then Draco shrugged. "Hermione," he said, not adverting his eyes from Freud, "get his wand."

I scurry to my feet and approach the man. He glares down at me with pure disgust. To him, I was a reminder of everything he despised about the muggle-born.

I pick-pocket his wand from his robes and hand it to Draco. He snaps it down across his knee and the splinters fly to the floor. _Now I was scared for the fate of this man_. Not out of wanting to spare his life… that I felt no mercy for, but I felt sorry for him that he didn't see it coming.

Pulling his arm back, he snapped it forward and a great flash lit up the room.

Freud was gone, but on the floor now stood a vase of flowers. They were red roses. _He'd transfigured him into… a plant._

He picks up the vase and inspects it, "we should put these in the foyer, it's been looking rather dull in there lately," he spoke too calmly, but the fear hadn't left his grey eyes.

I wanted to do something or at least say something to comfort him, but I was as scared as he was.

"Hermione," he tensed his jaw and composed himself to continue, "we have to be more careful from now on. I had been foolish to forget outsiders were entering my home today… I should have taken precautions. This world will never be forgiving of people like me for how I treat you, so for our safety, it must be kept secret. Do you understand?"

My head lowers with guilt, "yes, Master."

He turns to me and strokes my hair, pulling me into his body. I take his gesture and lean against his chest, but it's not distracting enough to keep me from stalking the vase of blood red roses that had once been a man. A man who threatened to have me executed.

"I won't let anyone hurt you," Draco hushes under his breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Hermione's lingerie, refer to Honey Birdette's IVY Bra and Brief Set.


	9. Chapter Nine

**The Punishing**  
Ch.9

* * *

**Hermione's POV:**

Dusting the furniture, an anxiety attack threatened to rise the closer I came to the flower vase. It looked beautiful, that was true enough, but as only myself and Draco knew the origins of the bloody-roses, it haunted me to even share the same roof with them.

_"Oh how lovely, Draco are these from you dear?"_ Narcissa had approached them yesterday with warm eyes. As her fingers stroked the petals, I had thrown up into my own mouth then swallowed so that no one would notice.

I was terrified he'd be transfigured back into a man at any moment and the outcome of my reading privileges would be significantly worse. I would be made a public example of... Draco too, just for defying his powerful father. He hadn't admitted so, but I could tell. He asked me to stay with him that night, and so I shared his bed. Nothing more came from it than his trembling hands grasping mine in his sleep. He'd been having a nightmare. I could make out mumbles of names and pleas of mercy...

_"Father no, don't kill her, please!"_ I heard at one point.

Lucius would be returning home in a day's time for the Yule Ball. We'd heard nothing in the papers of a missing person from the Ministry... _yet_. How long until they would trace it back to them? He was last seen here to plan for the Ball, _and Merlin_ , if they traced the spells cast from Draco's wand we were certainly done for!

Hung from the wall, behind the vase, was a large and elegant mirror with gold brass framing - another Malfoy signature. Everything had to scream wealth. Behind me, I catch a figure staring. Startled by the lurking presence, I swivel to catch them. It was Jake.

He leaned on the pillar adjacent to the dining room, arms crossed and face cowering in anger and jealousy. What was his deal?

Simply, he re adjusts himself and walks off slowly.

I followed him and he was waiting for me.

"What game do you think you're playing?" He barks, slamming the door behind me.

I jump, backing away from him as far as possible. I did not trust this boy one bit.

"I don't know what you mean," I plead, and it was the truth. What possibly could I have done to upset him? I had no RIGHTS. All my doings were under my master's instructions!

"Silly little girl," he tisks, clicking his tongue, "you need to leave this place."

I stutter, struggling to find the words over my own disbelief, "you know I can't do that."

"You'll find a way. I know you've been planning to."

Flabbergasted, I scrunch my nose with fury, "what have I done to make you treat me this way, Jake?"

He only smirks.

I wait for what felt like a lifetime; valuable time I could have chosen to run, to scream, to do anything other than wait for his psychotic reasoning.

"You aren't good for the Master Draco. Lucius and I don't need you ruining things with your perky tits," he scoffs, running his burning eyes up and down me.

_Lucius and I?_ "And who do you think you are? You're no more important than I am, Jake. I've seen the way you parade yourself around here... you definitely seem to think otherwise."

He chews at his gums, as though tempted to hit me with his life story if it meant winning the battle. "That's nothing of your concern, mudblood," he spat viciously, "you'd better leave by the end of the Yule Ball, because otherwise, I have my own ways of making you..."

I shudder weakly. He wasn't bluffing. This guy was certifiably crazy.

"You think your master will protect you? The way he protected his last slave? Well, I can't blame you for not knowing, but here's a fast-forward sweetheart; she cared about him too, and she was left for dead in the very dungeons we sleep." He stared at his fingernails, pulling at the cuticles like this were a casual conversation.

My throat felt full, as though I were choking on something, but nothing was there but the taste of bile and blood.

_He killed his last slave?_

It didn't make any sense. Why? How?

"Maria never saw it coming..." Jake left with a final tisk.

He may have been a different person then, the thought crossed my mind. It was in no way as reassuring as I'd hoped. How much did I really think I knew about who Draco Malfoy was?

Crashing down, my newfound sense of safety went.

_"I'll be out for a while, but I don't think it'd be the best idea to bring you along. I'll be back later tonight,"_ Draco Malfoy, Slytherin, son of the Minister of Magic, and heir to the Malfoy line, told me before he left.

He was going to see Nott, and I wasn't sure what for. Why did he suddenly not need me at his side? Something had to be up.

I huddled myself on the armchair in his bedroom chambers. He'd told me I could wait in here and amuse myself in his absence. I couldn't do it though. His belongings felt... poisonous. Gosh, I was losing my mind over what was real and what wasn't anymore. _How could I have let my guard down? I scolded myself._

It had only been one night! Now, here I was babbling like a moron that he's a good guy when I had been so deadly wrong.

_What happened to that poor girl?_

I begged myself to not dive in too deep - besides, I'd already seen my share in what Masters were capable of doing to their slaves. I didn't want to think about whichever way he'd done it. But if I had to guess, he would have lost control of himself. If I could be certain of anything, it was that consistently, since our earlier years in Hogwarts, Draco had a temper he could not control, and he was an emotionally-driven person. As Ron once commented, he was a recipe for disaster.

I rush to the bathroom, throwing myself to my knees to throw up in his toilet. It burned like acid after this day of anxiety and terror kept my stomach churning.

For the remainder of the night until he returned, I thought hard of Jake's warning... How could I be sure I was doing the right thing? It made sense to pick the lesser of two evils, but with Jake inferring he was in league with Lucius, it made things that much harder. Draco; a potential murderer, responsible for my life, or Lucius; the definite murderer?

Still, I thought of how to escape. After the Yule Ball. Could he have picked a more difficult time frame? The Manor would be littered with lingering, pureblood guests at that time, including Lucius himself... unless... did he want me gone too if he was sending his guard dog to replay the message? By now, all I had were theories upon theories, and each one was no more convincing than the last.

So, the answer emerged...

The doors to his bedroom creek wide open, and a yellow-headed boy entered with finesse. I quickly realised his 'finesse' was actually firewhiskey and drunken over-confidence.

"Welcome home, Master," I tune my voice down, no longer wanting to waste emotions on him again.

"Granger," he hit me with a bedazzling smile. And then it all became hard again. He didn't have the face of a killer. "Pardon me, I'm quite out of sorts at this moment," he staggered back, trying to put his coat down. He missed and stared at it crumpled on the floor. He certainly was plastered. "Did you miss me?" He smirked, an uncontrollable giggle gurgling from his lips.

"Of course, Master," I clear my throat. Holding my composure was much harder when he was as helpless as this.

He pouted at me, "why do you have to do that?"

"Do what, Master?" I tuck my arms behind me.

"That," he exasperates dramatically, " _master this_ , and _master that_. It makes me uncomfortable."

"What would you have me call you?" I question nimbly.

He thinks for a moment, "I suppose it doesn't matter. Draco would have been nice, but how is that supposed to work when the world sees you as my slave and I, your Master?"

"Because you are my Master, and I am a slave," I mutter. I wanted him to hear it, and I suppose he did by his distraught facial expression.

"The old Hermione Granger would never think so low of herself..." he slurred.

That stung. The punch to my gut sent a sensation that I was going to be sick again, but I wouldn't allow it. Perhaps it was anger boiling inside, as now I had the sudden desire to punch him in the face... _Zap_ , the collar struck me, but I ignored the tingling pain it left singing into my neck.

How _dare_ he! The old Hermione Granger also had human rights, she had her freedom, she had friends who loved and supported her, she had a voice and a family! Everything to make her feel like she actually belonged! Not here though... here I was nothing and was made to feel like it too.

He sighs, "I'm sorry." It catches my attention, but he seemed to have beat me to it and noticed he'd made me upset. "That was unfair..." he admitted poorly, bringing his hand to the back of his neck and start massaging it.

Then he slumped into the bed, kicking off his shoes. I stand and collect them. Morning and sober Draco wouldn't like his things on the floor.

As I did so, he watched me, and I hear him mumble something.

"What was that?" I ask.

"You're beautiful," he repeats, and I break on the spot with shock.

" _Why would you say something like that?_ " I whisper, my stomach tying itself in knots. _Zap_ , it stung me again, this time with more bite.

"Perhaps because it's true." He still sounds drunk and the words roll from his tongue rockily. "Because from the day you stepped foot in my home, I've been completely attracted to you."

My throat felt sticky, closing up as my anxiety grew.

_Stop saying such things!_

His words were killing me inside. I needed to hate him... I had to... I- I couldn't keep up with his games; feeling safe and feeling cared for, when the harrowing truth of it all was, I didn't know him! A rose still had its thorns.

"Why?" I croaked. It wasn't a question; it was a demand.

Then Draco went silent, maybe for too long, and I craned my neck to look at him. He was still on the bed, only now he pinched his lips together in frustration as he twiddled his thumbs. Growing frustrated as the booze distorted his vision, he lolled his head back and groaned to himself.

"Why," he mocked, "can't I just _not_ know why? Can't I not have to explain myself - it's awfully painful to think."

I stiffened, snarling my nostrils.

" _Who's Maria?_ " _Zap_. It felt like poison burning a hole in my tongue to speak her name... It made her more real to me in that dark moment; confronting him about it so boldly brought this figment of my imagination into the real world; made the sickeningly inevitable, finally speak its truth.

At the sound of her name, you would swear Draco began convulsing, he'd grown that physically uncomfortable. And aggressive...

"Where did you hear that?" He grunted through his teeth, steam frothing from his head. I'd stirred him, and I wasn't sure it had been as good a time to corner him about it as I'd hoped. The alcohol seemed to bring his edge out.

"Nowhere," I whispered quietly. If Jake was right, he was sure to meet the same fate this Maria had just as easily.

"You are going to tell me, now," he bit, coming to his feet and parading forward, as close as he could to my body. His hands gripped my wrists tightly, and I winced as it twisted my skin beneath.

"I swear," I pleaded, "I don't remember how I heard her name."

He bared his teeth, shoving my wrists against the wall. Draco didn't believe me, drunk or not. In that same moment, he didn't trust me either, and what last flicker of light that beaded behind those stormy eyes, went out, leaving a cold gaze boring into mine.

"So that's what you really want to know, is it?" He sighed, hurt amongst his tone.

He softened, releasing his hold on me, though not out of calm, but defeat. I didn't lower my guard as such, for the next choice of words would change too much.

Sinking into the side of the bed, I watched his fingers grip into the sheets as he braced himself for... himself. I caught a tear splash onto his knee, but he was quick to cover the evidence.

"She was mine... three years ago," he began, voice weary with the tainted memory re surging, "a half-blood girl, though not from Hogwarts or anywhere I knew. I believe she was home schooled, and the rebellion still stole her away," he added quickly, rushing to get it over with.

My knees wobbled, and weightlessly I stepped backwards into the comfort of his armchair. Anxiety overcame me from there.

_So, Jake was telling the truth._

"I could never bring myself to sleep with her because of her blood, but she tended to my daily needs as any other slave would. After two years, things started going horribly wrong..." Draco breathed hoarsely, choking back the tears and pain. "She was pregnant. It had been my father's doing of course, since he'd been screwing her under my nose. At first, it only bothered me I'd lost a capable slave, but when she began to show... something _changed_. Looking back, I wish it didn't. I could have spared myself a lot of bullshit."

I only imagined in terror, the power Lucius would have enforced on Maria to fuck her as he pleased. It shook my core violently at just how easily he could do so, and how I could have met the same fate if he wished it on me.

"But," he retorted regretfully, sorrow drowning his features and running pale, "I- I don't know, it felt wrong after that to see her the same way!" I could hear his voice gritting in anger, "she died in childbirth."

There were many questions, to say the least, though none more desperate than the last.

_What was she like?_

_What happened to the baby?_

_What was Lucius' involvement in all of this?_

_Did this have anything to do with Narcissa's behaviour?_

_What about Lucius now?_

_And Jake?_

_And... and..._ so much more.

Overwhelmed, my eyes shone with a glistening of fresh tears.

He looked up to me but showed no pity in my crying. "So, is that what you wanted to hear? More reasons to detest my family? To hear about the cruel and awful things of our past to make yourself feel better? How did it work out for you, Granger. Tell me how _happy_ you are."

His words were harsh, nipping away at me as he spat them my way.

I whimpered a quiet, "no"

"It doesn't matter. Nothing good ever lasts..." he'd said it as the faintest whisper. It likely had meant to be for himself. I wondered what he meant by that.

Was I... the good?

"Just so you know," Draco adds, slumping into his drunken bliss of a headache, "if it was Jake, who told you of Maria... it was he who slaughtered her babe." His eyes shut tightly, holding in what appeared to be flushing tears.

My throat seized with guilt. I'd said too much already, all of which backfired and angered my Master.

Taking to my feet, edging pressure into my nimble toes to quietly rise, I inch closer to him. He lay across the bed, hands covering his face. Lowering myself to sit beneath his gaze, I hesitated before leaving my palm upon his knee.

He jolted, eyes wide on me, but nothing more. He'd definitely been crying beneath his hands, evidence of puffiness and tear stained cheeks gave him away. Perhaps, in a more redeeming position, I would have felt powerful to see a Master cry before his slave... Instead, I felt sick again with remorse.

"Master," I whispered. "I- I'm sorry I pried. It was not my place to question you. I'm riddled with guilt for upsetting you." I couldn't even bring myself to look at his god damn face as I apologised dumb-foundedly. I'd made a complete fucking fool of myself speaking of out term. "I beg of you, if you were to punish me, I would deserve it now."

His eyes thinned into dark slits, and suddenly there were no more tears.

"Just tell me," he sighed with disappointment. It felt as though my father had caught me smoking a cigarette in the backyard and was scolding me for it. "What do I have to do for you to trust me?"

I thought, but I knew the answer. "Punish me."

His expression hardly changed, "what good would that do?"

"I- I would feel a sense of consistency, if you were to punish me for my wrong doings..." disgusting, it felt, to hear myself riddle my tongue with such weak requests. I finally understood that I was _broken_. I knew I would never feel normal, but the word _comfortable_ came to mind at the thought of regime and predictability. I got none of that with Draco as he paraded me in front of his friends and family like the sexual object I'd accepted myself to be, then coddled and hesitated in our private company. This behaviour I would never accustom myself to understand for a long time, and that hardly seemed likely a change under the same roof of Lucius Malfoy. "Please."

Draco stood again, taking my hands within his, urging me to join him. His eyes were still clouded by alcohol, giving me no indication of his emotional state. I realised then that Draco Malfoy was impeccably talented at switching his feelings on and off.

"If that is what it takes," he slithered his tongue against his teeth coolly. "Bend over on the bed."

I obliged willingly, laying my stomach down and exposing my backside to him. He oggled over me, having secret thoughts as his finger trailed down my spine and finished at the straps of my panties. Briskly, he tugged them down where they hung from my knees.

As my stomach did a black flip, I steadied my breathing. I'd asked for this. I wanted this. No, I needed this.

Under his breath, the Malfoy prince whispered, "twelve lashings..."

His palm stroked over my arse delicately, then he cracked down with a hefty slap. It rocked me forward and a gasp flew from my lips. Crack, he struck again. It left a sizzling sensation on my skin, and I felt the inflammation begin boiling rapidly. He'd hardly been gentle so far.

_Slap._

Each spank he thrust upon me left me wincing, burying my face into the sheets to muffle my screams.

_Slap._

Eight.

_Slap._

Nine. Three more.

He began to grunt, the vibrations surging within his throat, as he threw more of himself into my punishment.

_Slap._

Ten.

"I hope you've learned your lesson," he clears his throat with warning.

Slap.

"Because if you question me like that again, you won't be needing to ask next time around."

_SLAP_. Twelve. The last one had meant to be worse, but as my arse was ringing with a fiery sting, I had begun to lose external feeling from about the ninth spanking. Still his lashings promised light bruising at the least once the redness dissolved.

In no attempt to move until he instructed otherwise, I remained open and exposed over the side of his bed as he fell with a thump beside me.

"That will be all for tonight, Hermione," he nodded off quietly, "come sleep."

Crawling to his side, I watched him doze off almost instantly as he drooped his head to rest into my chest. He hadn't fallen asleep so quickly like that before.

Then it struck me, _he'd called me Hermione._


	10. Chapter Ten

**The Punishing**  
Ch.10

* * *

**Draco's POV:**

A drunken and hazy night it had been two nights ago, but regrettably, I had the unfortunate pleasure of remembering it all.

My tie refused to comply with me this evening, and I shimmed it open of its knot to start over one more.

_After all this time, she still didn't trust me_. It was a sickening feeling that nagged at me since that night. I had truly thought I had shown myself to not be like the others. Or I at least really did try.

_Look at you_ , the hissing voice returned, _you'll never be anything more than a Malfoy. A prodigy of what it meant to be pureblood in this new world. What else did you expect?_ These thoughts weighed in significantly, too much so to go about my normal days. With such distractions, I'd fallen behind on my schedule to tend to the Yule Ball preparations.

Cordelia worked tirelessly to catch up on mending the entertainment's uniforms of the night, stitching them to fit each slave. I had to make that up to her. With Father back from the Ministry for a week, her duties would far exceed her usual routines now. So long as he didn't fucking touch her, I cursed.

For all the wrong reasons, I believed he wouldn't dare anymore.

_Oh, Maria._

Her name was my burden. I wanted her to be my reason to be better… but, I felt like I was failing her. Here I was, getting ready for one of the largest Yule Ball celebrations under my father's name, parading with her kind at his disposal.

As much as it brought me pain to speak of back then, I owed Hermione that much. Still, I couldn't exactly tell all. I was scared it would make things worse. In truth- in truth of it all, I was a coward. Nine months of time had to go by, and just because I sympathised with the girl, what did I do about it? _Fucking nothing_. I replayed the events of that day just about every time I manage to close my eyes.

_It was screaming that startled me. At first it was menacing; perhaps the guard dogs were playing up, I thought the first few times. When I realised it was a woman, a rush of fear-driven adrenaline took over. I rushed around the Manor – Mother was in Switzerland, attending a special rehab, and Father was spending as much time working and away from home. I was alone…_

_"Lumos," I ignited my wand's light, and it guided me down the stairs to the dungeons. I knew she was down here this whole time – how could I not have felt a sense of concern before? Her shrills grew worse and I found Maria curled up on the stone floor. She had a prison-like bed pushed against the wall and no natural lighting._

_The floor was coated in fluid, some I knew to be blood. I crouched beside her and she looked up to me with grave fear in her eyes. That was the look that haunted me most; she knew she was going to die. I remember calling for help, but nobody came. Shrieking in pain as tears spurted from her eyes in such heavy flow, Maria struggled to give birth. Her body convulsed, as if rejecting this unnatural phenomenon happening inside of her, and as she thrashed around, I began to fall into a state of shock. I had never seen a woman give birth, let alone witnessed the 'struggles' of pregnancy. I was an only child. Life was supposed to just work for purebloods._

_Eventually, I reacted enough to place a hand over her forehead. She opened her eyes, still crying heavily, and clutched onto me tightly. She was grateful in that moment, I felt it as she tried to calm herself and keep her hips angled correctly._

I didn't remember the time exactly, but later, it eventually worked out to be a 7 hour labour and 43 minute birth.

_Coated in dark brown blood, I was still kneeling at her side. All I knew was what came natural to me, and I had to help her out of this excruciating pain. The baby was delivered, and I carried the newborn boy in my arms. I had no towels, no water; just a bloodied babe crying and writhing in my hold. I looked down to Maria. She was pale and sweaty, though significantly calmer. I handed her her son. Pure joy filled her lips as she smiled and held him to her chest. He stopped crying too._

_"Rhaegan," she whispered, "his name is Rhaegan…"_

_I was fond of the name, it was a strong name. It hit me in that moment that she had given birth to my brother… well, half at least. I held him once more, trying to clean him off with what rags I could find nearby._

_"Perhaps you'd better feed him," I offered, but when I looked down, my heart strained. Eyes open, staring into the floor, her head was sunk to the side and the rest of her remained still. She- she died._

_I think I stayed with her body for a few hours, tending to Rhaegan. I don't recall what I thought about; perhaps everything or perhaps nothing. Death did strange things to a mortal soul._

_He wriggled with distress. I didn't know much about what a newborn baby needed, but I assumed his current condition was not it. I walked back upstairs slowly, feeling worse as I put more distance between Maria and her son. I bathed him, changed my shirt, and wrapped him in some blankets from the linen closet. I even found a spell for concocting baby formula and made him a bottle._

_In the foyer, as Rhaegan suckled the teat of the bottle, I hear the front door open. Jake came in after what appeared to be tending to garden work. He looked me, then down to the baby I cradled._

_"Maria had her baby," I hushed softly, voice stained with remorse, "we ought to contact my Father."_

_Jake nodded, "of course, Master Draco." He stalked closer, peering down at him before transferring his hold to himself. When he walked away briskly with him, I became confused._

_"Wait," I began, following him to the kitchen. What I walked in on was Jake, in possession of a large knife over my new brother. "What are you doing?" I demanded with every inch of anger and fear I could squeeze from my vocals._

_"Your father's orders were to dispose of the bastard upon its arrival," he said matter-of-factly, perhaps even an evil grin twitching in the corners of his mouth, but I hadn't been sure it was real._

_He struck down._

I struggled for a long while following that day. I wouldn't get out of bed, talk to my friends or family, shower or eat. I just wanted to turn everything off.

When it became necessary for me to _take care of myself_ without threatening my life – though at the time, I don't think that was something I even cared about. I only thought of Maria, and especially of Rhaegan. I overhead him referred to as the "kid," or the "bastard," though "it" was most popular in my Father's vocabulary. Mother returned from Switzerland, appearing no better than when she had left. That's when her drinking and over-medicating began.

"Master," a quiet and timid voice broke my deep thoughts. I looked in the mirror, noticing I had made no progress on my tie, and Hermione was standing behind me. "May I be of service to you?" she nodded her head to my wardrobe malfunction.

I sigh and turn to accept her assistance.

She was… scrumptiously beautiful tonight. I didn't want her to look like the others tonight… I didn't want my father's colleagues taking her in like a side dish. Cordelia fashioned another black garment, and upon my request, green embroidery stitching throughout the fine piece. It was out of a recycled black, sheer body suit. It exposed all of Hermione's body, side from a black strip across her lower privates and nipples. Down her legs, material draped from her backside to the floor, only sheltering the view of her behind as it opened completely in the front like a cape of sorts. It paired well with her statement heels and hair brought up into a tight bun.

"You look good," I whisper under my breath, "maybe too good. Perhaps we should change it," I began to frantically rethink my choice. _Nice going Draco, now she has more attention than before._

She smiled up at me, "it's lovely, Master. It's personalised to show off that I am your property alone."

I could have taken that negatively, but there was a teasing smile behind her lips.

"It's just missing something," I tisk, looking her over once more.

I look around my room, looking for some accessory I could add to her look. My eyes land on a silver lamp straddling the bedside table. It was a curvy stand, decorated with finely detailed silver snaked that wrapped around into the shade.

Like silk, I enchant a transfiguration charm on the snake. Still holding its materialised, metal form, it came to life and slithered forward. I extend my arm, letting it wrap around my hand.

"Hold still," I instruct her and release the snake upon her frame.

She stiffens, fearing the snake despite its lack of… _everything_. It wraps around her hips first, locking into a tight circle, then slithers upwards, between her breasts and curls behind her neck. Hermione's breath sounded scattered. Finally, it fastens itself around her throat, solidifying into a lifeless ornament again.

Fashioning as a metallic brace of sorts from her neck to her hips, the snake made a bold _Malfoy_ statement.

"Perfect," I tell her. But my eyes aren't on her new accessory.

She musters a small smile.

My fingers reach to tuck a stray hair behind her ear, but I cannot remove my palm from resting at her jaw.

In all too short a moment, I arch down to leave a kiss upon her lips and no more.

Hermione inhales deeply, eyes distant as she visibly focuses on the sensations tingling in her lips. Then they find mine. I'd never noticed them in so much detail before; an aura of honey and gold flecks. They were filled with _life_ while I had been blessed with eyes as dull as a stone brick. Hers made me feel warm, like comforting winters by the fireplace and good, expensive firewhiskey.

My thumb tickled her cheek, giving her longing strokes. I couldn't help the feeling to protect her with everything I had… I couldn't bring myself to consider what I'd do if she met a similar fate.

"Are you ready?" I inhale sharply. Guests had begun arriving, and I could feel a burning sensation that Lucius expected me to have made an appearance by now. It was important to him that his colleagues' first impression was always _everything_ , and it wouldn't be everything without his son following in his footsteps. The old man could wait a few more minutes.

Hermione bobbles her head, "yes."

"Promise me one thing," I begin, nervously pulling at the sensitive skin of my gums with my teeth, "after tonight, you'll let me show you what your world _could_ be like?"

The golden flecks I'd become gradually fonder of, winked at me, as a sheer coat of fluid glazed over them. _Merlin, I hated making her cry._ I was quick to rectify the situation, and pulled her to my body, so that I was touching everything in my embrace.

"Please?"

She felt so small in my arms, shaking like a Chihuahua. It made me hold her tighter, and the shaking seized, melting into a relaxed stance against me. I felt her hands tickle at my hips where she hesitated to hold. _I took it as her way of saying yes._ I place a kiss on her head.

**Hermione's POV:**

I felt so _wrong_. Even after receiving my punishment, I was submerged in only feelings of betrayal to him. I'd really angered him the other night, striking his most personal sensitivities. Draco Malfoy treated me well, and against _all odds_ , becoming his Slave was the best thing to happen to me since this rebellion began.

I'd been muffling my cries the last few nights into his silk pillows. I felt my turmoil of confusion was a result of my trauma; _the awful and perverted things they did to me_ , to learn to never expect anything, ever, and mourning over my past. Lucius' presence haunted this house, even when he was in London. It never truly seemed like the entrepreneur of the Punishing had left, like a sickly reminder we were in these conditions because of him.

I suppose I could never see past his Malfoy demeanour; never truly accepting this was real.

He looked handsome tonight, but behind the façade of a powerful, upcoming Malfoy man, was fear swimming behind those stormy eyes. It seemed more obvious now, and I wondered if that had always been there; hinting at his distaste for his Father's lifestyle the whole time. I imagined so, recalling the small details I'd missed before… All the hesitation for, now, clarified reasons stood out like a sore thumb. _The same behaviour mirrored around his own friends too_ , I noted, thinking of Nott's extravagantly sickening party. He'd paraded himself like a new _Jay Gatsby_ of sorts, except slaves and violence over money, cars and booze.

_And to think, this was all by Maria's undoing. She'd changed the heart of a lost, confused boy._

I never considered myself particularly religious, and amongst the most degrading and inhumane episodes of my life, Gods were as far from my mind. _But I'd prayed last night, for her_. It was never easy to know blood spilled at the hands of their Master… It only stained our rage of protest.

Draco's lean and slender body bent with mine, as he held me in his comforting embrace. I was beginning to feel more comfortable under his touch. As though, maybe I could even… _not be afraid for once_. The thought brought a glistening of joyful tears.

Then he'd said that.

_What my world could be like?_

I tended to leave those fantasies where they belonged. I couldn't seem to concoct a single idea of what to expect his vision meant. But I knew I wanted to see it.

"We ought to be getting downstairs – can't be late for my own party," his eyebrows shrugged in disbelief. He hadn't really meant _his party_ , but where Lucius Malfoy walked, his son, Draco, was expected to fall short behind him. He lowered his mask; a centurion, antique, silver accessory that crowned his face handsomely.

I let him lead the way and linger in his shadow. The stairway curled around, allowing the guests a _magnificent_ view of their host from below, and boy, did Draco make an entrance. With a firm tug of his tux, he pulled it securely across his chest, and only then did he acknowledge the crowd. _A power move, by Draco Malfoy_ , I giggled to myself.

"Nice of you to _finally_ join us, Draco," Lucius muttered under his breath as he welcomed his son to the party. A decent handful of guests had arrived and began to social in the foyer. It had been re decorated for the masquerade theme; enchanting the room with a sense of _mystery_ and _flare_. The walls were wrapped in black and green vines across a charcoal back splash, contrasting against the fluorescent, hanging cages, already containing half-naked dancers. The foyer was central to the dining, kitchen and study as well as flight upstairs, but at the back, was a door that usually remained closed. Tonight, it was opened, and the guests were encouraged to follow through into what appeared to be the Manor's state of the art ball room. Spotting with circular tables and chairs, guests quickly secured their formal seats. Skirting the edges, in a similar fashion to how Nott's had been, Lucius too, thought it be necessary to add cushioned booths. Few sleazy Ministry workers took to those rather quickly with the promise of entertainment.

My gaze continues to rope around the room, and girls were everywhere in matching uniforms to identify those Lucius had bought, and those owned by a Master. Lucius' slaves, hired for his event, wore the black and green bodysuit Draco had suggested at his father's meeting. It had been an easy acceptance for Lucius for his sluts to parade around in his colours. I detested the man even more so as his eyes drank in every single one, undressing them with his eyes whilst his wife was hooked to his side.

"Draco," Lucius begins, "Mr. Nott was interested in how your studies are coming along."

Theodore Nott's father manifested himself and shook hands with Draco. "Yes, I have been. Merlin knows Theo has yet to decide on his career in the Ministry," he chuckled menacingly.

Draco kept his cool, offering a chilled smirk to Mr Nott. "They're quite well, I've advanced into sixth-year studies of Magical Law. It's been almost, _far_ too easy."

The subtle brag brought joy to Lucius, and he beamed over his son.

"I see," he closes his throat tensely, likely mentally scolding his own son, "that's marvellous to hear, Draco, I'm very happy for you. I suppose that means we'll be taking up your apprenticeship in the Ministry next year?"

He nods contently, "that is the plan. I don't see the need to wait, however. The Ministry's legal system has crumbled in the last two years, and I'm more than eager to get my hands on it." With a gracious sip of his brandy, he swallows as he peers through slitted eye lids.

Mr Nott's eyes fall to me after that, and I quickly lower my head, not realising I had been daftly too focused in their conversation.

"Ah, I remember you," he says, though not directly at me, but to Draco. As his eyes continue to lick up my presence, he drools over his proposition, "I think a man of business, such as yourself, Draco, could appreciate a good deal when he sees it. I'm interested in your girl here and am offering a _significant_ price for her." His chequebook unfolds, and written plainly, is a figure topped with zero's.

Draco swallows the lump in his throat, beside me, and I feel his hand reach back where his thumb stroked my hip lightly. "That's _quite_ an offer, Mr. Nott. Unfortunately, as I said last time, she's not for sale."

Mr. Nott looks at him quizzically, then turns to Lucius with harsh and judgemental eyes. He had offered to pay more for me than he did, after all. "I see," is all he says in an eerie tone. "You'll have to excuse me, enjoy your evenings."

Pardoning himself, we watch him float away to a bundle of men by the bar.

To my surprise, Lucius does not scold his son for rejecting the money and excuses himself also. This leaves Draco and I alone once more in a sea of prejudice morons. He stalks the crowd, not picking up anyone particularly interesting to engage in conversation with.

"Come," he instructs instead, keeping his voice stern and unwavering. Guiding my lower back, he edges us to the banks of the room where the booths are lined. From this spot, we look out onto the party-goers. This hardly felt like a Yule celebration. It felt like the instigation of an orgy for boomers…

Draco continued to stroke my back as a slave-boy laid out a platter before us. He slumped into the back cushion, legs spread and appearing glum. I was tucked in beside him and reached to pick up an appetiser, brining it to hover in front of his mouth. His eyes look down to the cracker and his lips engulf it sensually.

"Good girl," he whispers, getting his mouthful down and licking across his lower lip for the crumbs. "Come in closer to me."

I inch inwards, practically on his lap if I went any further, and then stared intently at him. He says no more but opens his neck to me. Eagerly, I lean my head down to gently press my mouth to his hot flesh. He lets out a rigid sigh, allowing his eyelids to rest momentarily. Against my lips, I felt his vein pulsating, thrashing up through the thick skin of his neck. It was intoxicating to lightly swipe my tongue over his beating pulse.

Draco's hand found my knee and he pulled upwards, as close to my core as he can. He never touches, but teases, menacingly leaving the delicate strokes of his nails into my inner thighs. It keeps me on edge, but I lose no hope, rolling his skin between my teeth.

"You can't do that, Hermione," he softly whispers, squeezing the tops of my thighs, "you'll only push me to do something I certainly don't want these people seeing… In fact, I wouldn't be fond of them seeing anything at all if weren't for my Father being here too."

I keep hovered by his ear, and so what is exchanged between us will be overpowered by the music. "I thought you wanted to show them I was yours?"

He huffs, dragging that same hand upwards to my waist, "that had been the plan. I just don't like people _looking at you_ , let alone offering to buy you off me." That had annoyed him more than he let off.

A shattering takes his attention from me as a commotion unravels nearby. Lucius is nearby to the scene, and I notice Narcissa sprawled on the floor in distress.

Draco sighs, "wait here."

He runs across the room, and through the weaving of bodies, I lose him somewhere.

"Hello, Hermione Granger."

I jolt, whipping my head back around to face the culprit so closely behind me in the booth. He removes his mask, revealing the smug face of _Theodore Nott, jnr_.

"Say, we hardly got to catch up at my last social. You'd best join me for a stroll, I think," he looks at the opened front entrance that leads into the Malfoy's front garden.

"Many pardons," I say, "my master has instructed me to wait here for him."

Nott's egotistic smile drops, and he leans in closer where I'm hit with the fermenting ale off his breath, "I'm sure he won't mind. Draco and I go way back, you see. Come on, I could use the company."

My chest tightens, feeling his eyes over every inch of me. They hold at my breasts, covered merely by the strip of black fabric across my nipples and the silver snake resting between my cleavage.

"My master," I begin to repeat myself again, but instead I'm caught off by my own gasp. He'd grabbed my wrist, straining them in his fist and dragging me to my feet.

"You're coming with me, miss Granger," he seethes, leading me through the crowd and out the front door.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Rape scene featured in this chapter, if you are sensitive to this, it is recommended you skip ahead.

**The Punishing**  
Ch.11

* * *

**No One's POV:**

Hermione was shaking violently as Nott weaved them between the Manor's maze, her fears growing more into a likely reality by the second. She resisted him a few times, and it had resulted in his grip seizing tighter on her wrist. She thought she felt a sprain as he yanked her like a dog on a leash.

_"Please,"_ she begged silently, hoping the warning would sway him to reconsider, "Nott, my master wouldn't approve." She was compelled to check behind her that _maybe_ , she was being followed. The further they dived through the maze, that hope dimmed. No one was coming for her, and Nott wasn't stopping.

"Shut up," he barked, frantically looking left and right at another T section. He chose left and dragged her with him, but they'd reached a dead end. He grunts in frustration. Seconds pass, and she noticed his form soften. _No, not here_. "This will do."

She gulped, praying for her shock to subside and take those first few steps to launch herself into a sprint. Only, her legs were frozen, and she was trapped as Nott circled behind her to keep her between the bush hedge and him.

"You've been on my mind a lot, Granger," he rolled his lips scrumptiously, "I have to tell you – I have owned _hundreds_ of slaves, and hundreds more lately, but my urge is yet to be satisfied. I just want you." His fingers tucked into his tie, pulling it free from the knot, and he discards it to the ground.

Hermione panted, breaking a terrified sweat. She couldn't fight him off, wand or no wand. Draco may have publicly claimed her as his own, but no laws governed the safety of slaves from other Masters. _She would have to let him. Resistance would land her a death sentence._

Being raped and violated would kill her anyway, she accepted. There wouldn't be any return after the last of her was taken by the sadistic maniac.

"Draco has been rather _difficult_ with my offers. It's been driving me fucking mad that he was experiencing you all for himself and not sharing. Now, I want my turn. I want to take the _golden girl_ of Hogwarts…" He seethed through his teeth. Nott was dangerously aroused, slashing his belt from his trousers and throwing that too, amongst his shoes.

He staggered forward, closing the space that kept her safe. He grasped her hips and forced her body to the ground. She winced, feeling her elbow clash with the ground first and something had most definitely shattered. On her side, she rolled to flop on her belly, desperately trying to crawl away. Nott crouched low, going for her hips again and pinned her down.

_"No, please,"_ she began to cry hysterically. She couldn't fight herself, and she thrashed to wriggle beneath his weight.

She heard that fatal _unzip_ of his trousers, and the shuffling of them being removed. As his hand wrapped around the back of her head, he held it down. Hermione could just see Nott on his knees, hovering behind her and wearing nothing but socks and his button up.

He was aroused, an erection in his grasp as he pleasured himself. He bunched the material on the back of her lingerie, yanking in one strong motion so it tore away in one piece. It ripped the fabric of her bodysuit, and his fingers went for that too, opening himself access rapidly.

Hermione cried out in a loud wail, digging her fingers into the grass and dirt. _She always hated this part; they'd never been gentle_. If she looked away, it would be over quicker, she reminded herself. She hadn't had to go through this in months she'd realised, and another part of her heart shattered once more.

Draco's pace picked up. _Where is she?_ He racked his brain nervously, having found Hermione wasn't where he'd left her. _She wouldn't just take off like that_ , he decided. His party guests all seemed preoccupied with the entertainment and social atmosphere, as though no disturbance had occurred. _Of course_ , he realised, not to them there wouldn't have been. He became increasingly nervous for her.

His eyes found Mr Nott, who was standing by the main entrance with another refill of bourbon. He seemed weary and alert, Draco noticed. _Theo_. He'd seem him briefly once tonight, mingling with Pansy and her family. When he checked again, he was no nowhere to be seen.

He had a sick feeling rise in his throat as bile. _He wouldn't fucking dare_ … and if he did… Draco begun thinking of all the forms of torture he'd provoke on his acquaintance.

He wisped his wand out from his pocket, _"finestra"_ he chanted. Mr Nott's glass shattered, maybe even slicing his palm open on the way. Perhaps for the better, Draco thought, as he watched him double over in pain and seek attention from someone. He took his chance to slip past.

He entered through the maze, a layout he was far familiar with. The deeper he roamed within, he could hear the unpleasant sounds he could only identify as Hermione's. They were cries and screams for help. A lump formed in his throat, and he found this one hard to swallow. _What if he was already too late?_ He wouldn't forgive himself. Adrenaline became him, and he stormed ahead.

Taking several round corners, he came upon a dead end, and at that end, was Theodore Nott, crouched on his knees over his innocent and helpless Hermione.

_He was thrusting, forcing his weight on top of her as he violated her._

"NOTT," he boomed, stealing his attention. Draco, enraged in an anger he'd never felt before, surged forward with his wand raised. _"Stupefy!"_ His voice strained, and a red light immersed from the tip of his wand in a lightning-effect. It struck Nott directly in the ribs, and the boy's eyes clenched shut as his body flung through the air and crashed into the hard bushes.

Draco burst into a sprint and he skidded to the floor to Hermione's side. She was quivering, crying and at loss of breath with wide, ghostly eyes. "Hermione," he lowered his shaky voice, stroking her head, "Hermione, breathe. I'm here. Oh god, I'm so sorry."

Nott's groaning split through the stunning silence, _"Malfoy,"_ he snarls.

"You're a sick fuck, Nott," Draco returns, equally disgusted but never taking his eyes off his vulnerable, broken girl.

Nott, bleeding from his nose, pushes himself up to his elbows, "no, something even more sick is going on here. She's just a slave, Malfoy, you shouldn't care if she's messed around with."

"I don't have to clarify _anything_ to you. When I said I wasn't sharing her, I fucking meant it." Now, Hermione was tampered with, and he'd failed to keep her from harm.

"My father was right about you… whatever fucking happened, with that _last slave girl_ of yours. She changed you. You're not one of us." The more Nott spoke, the more he grew attached to his theory. It was making perfect sense. Malfoy's sudden distance from their group; his lack of interest in parties; the one drunken night he kept all the slave girls away from him. It had caught their attention at the time, and loyalty was in question, but _he had not expected this._ "Even Hermione Granger; Potter's precious little trinket, and you didn't have the BALLS to defile her. _Blood-traitor._ "

Beneath Malfoy's rock-hard body, the Granger girl tossed, and rolled up to face him. Her eyes were tired and deranged. "Obliviate" she whispered hoarsely.

Draco's mind switched note.

In the corner of his eyes, he sees Nott trying to come to a stand. He fumbles for his pants, knowing his wand was tucked away there. But Draco is quicker…

He throws his arm out, and with no hesitation, mutters the curse under the faintest of breaths, _"obliviate."_

Nott is shot back down, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he loses consciousness. Against his better judgement, he swishes his wand once more to slip his pants back on his body. _At least no one would ask as many questions._

_"Oh, Hermione,"_ Draco fell, collapsing over her frail body. She was bleeding, and when the red fluid coated his fingers, he started to break down. "I'm so sorry."

She cried in his arms, quivering soft mews of help. He scoops her up and begins his walk out of the maze. With the strumming vibrations of music running through the ground and glow of lights through the windows, it wasn't safe to bring her through there. Around the side of the house, Draco kicked down a back, laundry door that lead through the dungeons and slave quarters. Nobody was down there, and he continued to cradle her through the dim lit halls.

Cordelia emerges, wearing the same bland green and black uniforms as the other girls, and she carried a trough of empty bottles. She instantly looked to Hermione's unconscious body, covered in a slick patch of blood around her thighs, and dropped the load from her arms.

"Help me get her to my room," Draco pleaded, out of breath.

Cordelia was frantic, clearing a path through the cold stone dungeons. She takes a wrong turn.

"Wait, wait, where are we going?" He questions, worried for Hermione's safety.

"There's a passage way, built for your family to escape without intruders noticing. This stair-well will lead us to the top floor of the Manor," Cordelia explains quickly, taking a torch off the wall to guide them up the flight.

Surely enough, she was right, and where Draco had thought there'd been an ordinary wall, was in fact a secret door that opened up for them. The party and their guests were louder, and if they weren't fast, would be noticed by someone at the end of the landing.

Cordelia poked her head out first and crept closer. "Go," she softly whispers, waving him over. He scurries, using the wall for camouflage, and slips into his bedroom door that Cordelia holds open. Closing it securely behind, Draco swore he heard her mutter a locking charm. _It hardly mattered, that was exactly what he needed right now._

Across the bed, Hermione lay sprawled in a state Draco could barely bring himself to look at. Cordelia, however, was quick to begin aiding her.

"Master Draco, her clothes," she asked softly, while tearing them open down her chest. He felt blindly for a grip on her clothes, but when he pinched his fingers around the already torn fabric, no strength came to them. In small movements, they were able to peel from her skin and Cordelia came back from the bathroom with a warm wash-cloth, placing it in Draco's hand. He began stroking her thighs, gently wiping away the blood.

" _Draco,_ " she wept.

He shot his head up, "I'm here," he assured her.

Cordelia dressed her, picking a simple wife beater shirt from his wardrobe, and slipping it over her head. Once Draco was done cleaning her off, he draped the duvet over her legs and began petting her head.

"It's okay, Mione, you're safe now. No one can hurt you anymore," he chanted, rocking beside her as she drifted into a dreamless sleep.

"It was the master Theo, wasn't it?" Cordelia hummed with regret.

"Yes. He's taken care of," he insisted in return. She met him with stunned silence. "What can I do, Cordelia?"

"Master?" she questioned. This was hardly something she felt comfortable discussing in her position.

" _What can I do?_ I can't mind alter every threat that comes between us… I don't want to put her through it. I can't _live_ the way my family expects me to. So, tell me, what can I do?" he bit through gritted teeth.

Cordelia sighed, "if I may, Master… You can't escape your fate if you walk alongside it."

Of Course. He looked down to the sleeping beauty in his bed, and his heart hurt.

"You _love_ her, don't you?" She piped up.

Love. It was the first time he'd thought of that word for a long, long time. He supposed this no world had no room for that sort of thing and left it behind in his deepest memories. Now that she'd unearthed the notion, that wasn't going any time soon.

"I hadn't thought about it," he admitted sheepishly.

Cordelia needn't know more. His eyes said it all as his cheeks were met with a warm pink flush.

_Draco Malfoy fell in love with Hermione Granger._ Now he knew what he had to

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off,   
> This chapter was very difficult to write. Under no circumstances do I ever want to take rape lightly, especially for the sake of a story, so I wanted to keep the explicitness limited as possible. Also, I wanted to pour so much more emotion into the scene, and really capture the hurt and trauma this caused to both Hermione and Draco. In following chapters, I will be doing the same to present as much realism in their thoughts and feelings as possible.  
> Secondly, Thank you for your ongoing support in my work, this type of A/U is very risky to work with because so many elements need to be changed, but the response from you all has been rather overwhelming.   
> Thirdly, I personally LOVE reading and writing Theo Nott Jnr as the GOOD guy in my fics, I think he can really harness that personality well. He always makes a great pon in helping Draco overcome blood prejudice. SO, after this chapter and leading up to, DO YOU AS AN AUDIENCE believe he should have a MOMENT of redemption - without total forgiveness of course - OR total annihilation?! I'll be eager to hear your thoughts.   
> FINALLY, I will be posting a Oneshot eventually too so keep an eye out on that so I can show you my versatility.   
> THANKS AGAIN xoxo


	12. Chapter Twelve

**The Punishing**  
Ch.12

* * *

**Draco's POV:**

_"Don't play daft with me boy, you had something to do with this," Nott senior heckled the Malfoy Family as his son, lay dizzy and confused in the foyer._

_Lucius protested, "Nott, I think it's best you take your foolish accusations elsewhere."_

_He sneered at Draco the most, an ugly secret moist on his lips… "We'll be back," he warned, slinging his son over his shoulder and making their exit. It had made quite the commotion and other guests uncomfortable, sending a steady stream of people home early. That had been what Lucius was upset about._

_"Now, would you look at this. Tonight, was supposed to make history; Minister's best Yule Celebration," he wallowed, slumping in a chair as Narcissa tended to his shoulders for a quick massage._

_"My darling, I'm sure your colleagues all thought so until Nott became aggressively involved," she tried to convince, taking in the décor of the party. She irked at the slave girls still dancing in their cages and moping around naked. She dismissed them all._

_"Yes, that was quite odd don't you think? It hardly makes sense for Draco to have attacked him," he snorted in disbelief at the notion. After a second, he cocks his head to face me. "You didn't, did you?"_

_I made the effort to appear offended, "father of course not, that's downright absurd. I'd taken the slave girl to a more private location for a right shagging," I sculled the remaining whiskey, imitating the behaviour my Father often demonstrated. Speak, and seal it with a drink. He always said. It was a power move. "He likely went on a drunken walkabout and found trouble with the Horklumps," I added._

_"Well, I'll have to see to it those pesky Horklumps are taken care of. Can't have anymore unfortunate accidents," Lucius strains, rubbing the headache from his temples._

My father's interest on the matter withered away by the next day, aside from a nasty Howler received by Nott Senior that he merely hexed to rid himself of hearing. He felt it was disrespectful among elite families to _quarrel_ where we were supposed to hold a united front against the muggle-born. I believed he even liked to hold it against less-fortunate purebloods, like the Weasleys.

_The Wizarding World is a food chain, and if we're not living to dominate, we're not living_. Lucius often retorted fondly over dinner. When he'd say so, he'd look up in awe at the mounted lion head metaphorically. I found it difficult not to choke on my food in laughter when he did so.

_So full of shit_ , I thought once or twice.

Theo's condition was fair, as I'd heard, he was coming back to himself, only now with a blank memory of the events of the party. Best news he'd received through the gossiping Pansy, was that he'd laughed to himself and thought he must have gotten _sloshed_. I hoped it'd remain that way, so long as Nott senior kept his long, gauntly nose out of it!

Hermione slept now mostly, curled up in my bed all day and not saying a word. I tried joining along beside her, though it didn't change much aside aiding her cold skin, and she'd drift off again. All I wanted was to shake her, to bring her back around. I couldn't bare myself being involved in it all. Then I'd punch myself in the Dick… _This wasn't about you, ass hole_ , I'd yell at myself. Finally, I'd return to comfort her, whether it be whispering sweet things in her ear, rubbing her back or just being in silence with her. In her long, sleep, she rolled into me, nuzzling her face to my chest.

_"You love her, don't you?"_ Cordelia's words hummed in my head.

It stung, by Merlin, I was in fucking agony over this girl. Her joy was my joy and her pain was my pain.

_I loved her._

I wanted to rejoice that the feeling had returned, only it was burdened by the last being who held my love. _Rhaegan_. Then he was taken from my arms and butchered before my eyes. I realised, disturbingly, Hermione had already nearly met the same fate. I was cursed to never feel love of those around me…

The front door chimed with an exaggerated greeting, and my anxiety turned into rioting panic.

_Aunt Bellatrix._

I rushed back to the bed and rocked Hermione's shoulder. "Mione, please you have to wake up," I begged. She peeled her eyes back, and I felt sore forcing her like this. I could tell she didn't want to leave the bed. _"Please,"_ I urged again, "my aunt is here – I can't hide you up here."

Father had been left under the impression that her absence was due to a current punishment for my slave: forcing her to bleach and clean every inch of my bathroom naked. When he asked what she had done, I replied that she'd disappointed me physically, tending to a really bored face to drive the lie home. The proud look in his eyes left me both sick and satisfied.

Hermione shifted again, rising slowly from the bed. I took the wife-beater off that she'd cocooned herself in for the past few days and searched frantically for one of her uniforms somewhere. Surely, there was one discarded on the bathroom floor I could slip her into.

I stopped, charging toward her to hold her in the tightest hug I could manage without damaging her weak frame. She winced, and I realised I'd forgotten about her elbow. The bone had shattered, and since been under the mend and care of Cordelia.

_Someone else I was intrigued to speak with… She'd locked my door with magic, that night_. I was sure of it.

Leaving a kiss upon her forehead, I straightened myself up and lead us down the flight of stairs. Mother and Father were greeting aunt Bellatrix in the Foyer.

"Draco, darling," she bared her blackened teeth. "Keeping out of trouble?" she mocked.

I managed a half-arsed grin, "of course, Aunt Bellatrix."

She seemed pleased enough with my response and began circling the house, inspecting it. _She halted at the flower vase_. Her fingers curled around a stem, where the thorn pricked at her skin, but she hadn't budged or even reacted. "Narcissa, do you _always_ keep dying plants in your house?" she sighed.

She was right, the plant had wilted and turned a gory grey and black. I gulped to see a sappy black gunk coating the stems also. No doubt they smelt too… and not with the familiar scent of dying flowers but of rotting flesh.

_Freud was dead._

Mother beckoned for Charles to discard of the flower vase, and he did so on quick toes, taking it out the back. That would be the last of the evidence; the one witness taken care of.

Our family followed Bellatrix's motions as she dawdled through the halls and finally settled in our living room. We'd hardly used it, never reaping much benefit out of _family time._

"So, sister, tell me what's new in your glamorous life," she teased, cocking a knee over her leg. Since her release from Azkaban, Aunt Bellatrix inherited a great wealth. She bought a secluded condo out by an eerie lake of mermaids and other vicious things, but mostly spent time travelling and on the hunt for the Order. _She had to find Harry Potter for when the Dark Lord returned._

Narcissa sighed, flickering her eyes around the room, "let me see, I've taken up a hobby in _baking_ ," she pitched.

Bellatrix's eyes fell with disappointment. I felt the same energy repulsing from my Father.

"Baking?" Bellatrix repeated.

"Yes. It's much like _potions class_ , I find." That sold it eventually, as mother had quite a nick for Potions back in her schooling years, though she never wanted to pursue the hidden talent.

Hermione crouched at the floor beside me, eyes lowered and vulnerable. She'd been asked to do so many times by me, but this time, with the light really burnt out, she hardly had to act the role of a submissive slave. She'd visibly shown she accepted herself to be one.

_I'll kill that fucking Theo._

"New toy?" My aunt beckoned for my attention while it was fixated on her.

I clear my throat, "yes, father found her squatting at the Auction House. We've been very _pleased_ with her services," I pet her head convincingly. Having roped Father into my sentence, I hoped edged that there weren't any problems. As far as Father was concerned, there wasn't.

Bellatrix's eyes still peered dangerously down at her form. Then the slightest hitch slipped between her throat.

_"Hermione Granger_ , Potter's little Mudblood," she croaked in victory.

I felt my insides clench, but mostly I felt Hermione do the same by my shins.

Bellatrix stood and circled her, as though she were a stalking predator. Only, that's exactly what my aunt was. Her obsessive personality drove her to take whatever accomplishments needed be. I was growing more uncomfortable as I watched ideas reel behind her white eyes.

"Bella," Lucius interrupted, "to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit? I would have thought you'd be occupied with your mission," he tensed. Father had released his sister-in-law from Prison under the conditions she was to be a Bounty Hunter and locate the Order or other blood-traitors or runaways. And the salary he offered her was so high it was filthy. I understood his distaste for her presence.

She giggled to herself, "my dear brother-in-law," she teased again, calm becoming her, "we have made significant process, and I thought it only be right to deliver the news personally."

Lucius and Narcissa leaned forward in their seats.

"We've located and captured the Lovegoods. The Father wouldn't spill so we spilled him – now we're torturing the little blonde freak. She knows something, as we arrived, she sent off an owl. I have a team tracking that owl as we speak…"

"You mean to tell me you believe you're close to finding the Order?" Lucius tested.

"Perhaps," she smiled innocently, "I'll need more resources. 120 men."

Father scoffed, "preposterous!"

She cut him off, tisking as she took a stand and circled to the bar. The drinks she poured were strong and expensive. "With every minute that ticks by, the closer the Order and their precious symbol of hope, _Harry Potter_ , come to infiltrating _our_ new world. From my standpoint, you've become rather attached to it, haven't you? You wouldn't want that being ripped away by some snotty kid who got away with it _because you didn't service enough firepower to find him_."

Lucius' forehead was glistening. It was no secret Aunt Bellatrix made him erratically nervous. Mother too, could no longer predict what her sister was willing to do.

She popped the cork of an expensive brandy and brought it to her lips. "I'll have the paperwork on your desk for those recruits, _Minister_ ," she breathed by his neck, and made her leave with the bottle.

Upon hearing the signature slamming of the front door, my parents let out a heavy breath of relief.

"Your fucking sister," father spat.

Narcissa rolled her eyes, " _You_ let her crazy arse out of Azkaban!"

Father stood quickly and brought his hand down across her cheek. She let out a scream and cowered, cradling her jaw that was now gushing with red inflammation. I'd seen it happen so many times before, I'd known it was best to look nowhere and say nothing.

"I'll be leaving for London shortly, now, thanks to her visit," he proclaimed, standing tall again as he dusted off his glove.

His robes wisped through the stale, Manor air, and then he was gone. I went to my mother, but she rejected my help.

"No," she begged silently. "I can do it myself."

Her wand was tucked in her sleeve, and she waved it over the skin of her cheek. The swelling and redness reduced almost instantly. She had become rather familiar with the spell by now.

She inhaled sharply through her nose, and her eyes targeted Hermione, still kneeling with her head down.

"Son," she began tensely, "I'll need your wand."

I choked, " _why?_ "

"Because whatever happened between you and Nott, it can't be traced back to you. I need to adjust some things in your wand to erase the memory charm I assume you left him with…" She sighed delicately.

I was staggered and noticed that Hermione too had peaked her head a little higher in interest.

" _Don't even get me started on those flowers_ ," she mumbled lightly too. "I had Charles burn them."

"Mother, how," I began but she cut me off.

"You needn't worry, Draco. I know many things, but they cannot be discussed here…"

And with that, she got up and left with my wand, her heels softly clicking against the marble that fell shorter of hearing.

My eyes flew to Hermione, and she looked back at me. Fire was behind her eyes again as she showed alertness. It was enough for me to lunge at her with open arms.

Though I said nothing, it was her that peeped against my chest. "We have to do something about Jake…"

My stomach flipped. _Of course_. I wouldn't doubt the little rat was keening in on us.

"We'll take care of him next, then," I assured her. " _Gladly_."

**Hermione's POV:**

I didn't feel… _normal_ , anymore. I felt, like nothing, actually. Imagine that; not even being able to conjure up a feeling of sadness. When Nott forced himself upon me, he didn't just _rape_ me, he took a bit of my soul with him too. The act made me feel utterly worthless and that my life had no meaning. I wanted to convince myself otherwise, I really did. I brought on memories of being friends with Harry and Ron. I remembered my parents, whom loved me dearly, and I missed more than anything. They couldn't break the barrier Nott installed when he _took me_ , and when he made me remember I was entitled to nothing anymore.

He'd won; I did feel like I was nothing.

Draco let out silent sobs when he held me the last few nights. I wished I could comfort him, I wished I could make _him_ feel better, but what did I have to offer anymore? It was beginning to feel too draining for me to conjure myself to roll over.

When Bellatrix entered the Malfoy's home, a spark of energy ignited within. Not to be fooled, it was hardly the type of spark one would _welcome_. It was the kind of ignition that instigated the flight or fight mode. Adrenaline poured through my veins, rumbling at my weak muscles to get up and do _anything_. Oh, but it was so hard. I took comfort in the _nothing_ of sleeping away my memories, but Draco was rather insistent. I knew he was right.

So, I dragged myself with him, and keenly listened in on their conversation. It was _easier_ , now. I felt nothing, and therefore had nothing to show for it. I truly had been _broken_ , like a wild horse, into submission.

Then, Bellatrix mentioned the Order and the Lovegood's. _Luna_. My heart fluttered with worry. Draco's Aunt was a vile woman, I'd learned about her involvement in torturing Neville's family back when I attended Hogwarts and remember feeling riddled with disgust. I also remember feeling content in the fact she was locked away for a reason, meaning society had also _apparently_ viewed her crimes as a bad thing too. Oh, how wrong I'd really been.

But the most surprising of events to occur in the past few days was _Narcissa Malfoy._

In all her hidden glory, the woman bore her scars before Draco, and covered his tracks for him. I suspected she had an inkling about his _lenient_ behaviour towards me and was equally sympathetic to his feelings as she shared a similar connection with Charles and Finn. With Lucius here, I could only imagine the hardship she'd been having to endure under his wrath.

Charles and Finn tended to me with Cordelia, laying cold towels on my head, bringing water and food though I hadn't the stomach to touch it, fluffing the pillows, or whatever they could manage to manoeuvre me around for.

_But no Jake._

I hadn't forgotten about him. It made me more curious that Lucius hadn't broken his own façade under this junior and senior Nott problem. Jake warned that he had his own ways of making me leave if I wasn't gone by the end of the Ball. A small percentage of me was scared to leave the bed for that reason too. I wanted to be alone, yet with the threat of Jake attacking while I was vulnerable, left me begging Cordelia, Draco or _anyone_ to stay at my side. Cordelia had been reading to me, which I found soothing and distracting as I let her words carry me for a while. It was as though the slaves had boarded up in Draco's chambers as refuge now.

As such, once Bellatrix left, and Narcissa had dropped that bomb of a surprise on us, Draco ushered me gently back upstairs to his room. Cordelia was already there, traying up lunch.

_I was awfully hungry._

Maybe if I had some, _then_ went back to bed.

Cordelia smiled, "you're up, Hermione. I'm glad to see. I've brought you some of your, uh, favourites," she blushed adorably, presenting what was indeed, my favourite foods.

_Yorkshire Pudding, mashed Potatoes doused in a thick gravy and assorted, triangle-cut sandwiches on the side._

It smelt like home… So, I dug in, stuffing my face with the gourmet food.

Behind me, Draco let out an uncomfortable sigh. I paid little attention as the gravy dripped from my lips. A chunk of turkey sandwich became lodged in my throat then, and I struggled to by-pass it. He jumped behind me, first hitting my back to trigger the cough I needed. It slipped and came up, along with a surging of vomit.

It gurgled up and sprayed over my legs, in another wave of sickness. I couldn't keep the food down.

Draco winced, avoiding the puke that had ricocheted from my skin onto the floor around me. I felt humiliated, but mostly _sick_. A tense headache came on, and I was left dizzy, parched and with a burning throat.

" _Crap_ ," Draco sighed, pulling me up from under my arms. "Come on, let's get you showered…" then off to his bathroom we went. He undressed me, reserving his temptation to overlook my figure, and focused on taking care of me. As the water warmed, he waited, dipping his hand in to check the temperature until he seemed pleased with it. "I'll have some new attire for you when you're out, yeah?" he offered sheepishly, giving me a gentle caress on my shoulder as he left.

Aside the water plastering the tiled walls, it was too quiet in there. _Far too quiet for my liking if I could hear my own thoughts_. They came flooding back, as I rounded the glass panel into the shower. It was warm against my skin, but even still, I couldn't shake the feeling I was being touched. _It's just water, Hermione_ , I screamed at myself. _Stop acting this way._

That's when I began crying… _Really_ , crying. Since I was expelled from school, since I was thrown into the back of a cage, since the Punishing began, since my first masters bought me and raped the 13 year old girl I was, since the massacre, since I was brutally beaten, tortured and sexually harassed on a day to day basis, _and since I fell into the kind embrace of Draco Malfoy_. They say to cherish even the smallest of treasures; I truly did, being Draco's slave, and Nott took it all away again.

All I wanted to do was _fucking die already_. It was too much; the rise and fall of hope and defeat, having to get back up every time to be beaten back down! I don't think I had much left in me to go through it again.

Maybe I should have gone when I had the chance… Merlin knows I might have escaped my fate. But then again, maybe not. Say I did get away; I'd be weak, dehydrated and starving, trenching through the woods in no particular direction. I would have been alone with only myself and died in a pit somewhere. _I wouldn't have had Draco_. The thought stung. Once again, I was obligated to feel GUILTY for my feelings; to believe they were warped, twisted and a result of my trauma. Maybe a form of _Stockholm syndrome_. All because, he was still a pawn in their game. He was still part of the wheel that kept me captive.

I close my eyes and let the warm gush of water run over my face, rejuvenating the tightness I'd created from all that crying, then twisted the taps to _off_.

That's when the voices outside the door became apparent to me. It was Draco and Cordelia, and they sounded tense. That was _odd_.

I snatch a towel from the hanger and crept closer to the door where I pressed my ear to its wood. Though difficult, I could hear majority of their conversation.

"You could have been caught by _anyone else_ , do you _have a death wish_?" That was Malfoy.

"I'm a slave, Draco, of course I have a death wish," Cordelia bit back.

Concern grew within me. What could they possibly be arguing about?

"I'm sorry, that was insensitive of me. So, when did this all start anyway?" He deflated.

"My last Master… he often got himself so drunk that he couldn't remember anything from the night before. That's when I started researching. When he died, not much later, and I was forced back into the Auction House, I vowed I would keep on learning. It's been difficult, but well paid off." She admitted.

_Researching_ … I couldn't even pin point which theory I had rotated through most suited. The most dramatic, yet still plausible, was that Cordelia was a spy and Draco was in the midst of the discovery himself.

"And so, ever since you've been practicing magic here?" Draco asked.

_Oh, Merlin_. I panicked. _Cordelia has been secretly learning magic in Lucius' HOUSE?_ I didn't think Draco would expose her, but I did know he had the right to be concerned. We, ourselves, had even been caught.

"Yes. I often am responsible for cleaning your Study, and it gives me the opportunity to browse, and I memorise as much as I can. Since before Hermione arrived, however, I was growing suspicious of Jake, and now I can guarantee he's up to trouble. I haven't been able to get away with sneaking around and practicing on my own with him here, he seems to be very observant of her."

_Jake_. I felt a sense of security bubble to the surface of my skin, as though having an inkling that perhaps she's been watching out for me all this time.

"I think so too. He's far too loyal to my Father, it's rather disturbing, and for whatever reason he has it out for Hermione," I heard Draco sigh.

I made myself known, and pushed through the door, merely wrapped in a towel. But I held my own and faced them both.

"He's in league with Draco's father," I pronounce.

Draco's attention peaks to high alert. This was news to his ears, as was even Cordelia's. They faced me with intense curiosity, urging me to continue.

"Jake threatened me to leave by the end of the Yule Ball, because I was messing up _their plans_ for Draco. He said I wasn't good for him," I recalled as closely from memory as I could.

"He did _what_?" Draco seethed, his shoulders enlarging before my eyes.

Cordelia cut him off, thankfully, "but, it's _after_ the Yule Ball…" she looked quizzical. She was correct to be.

"Yes. He told me if I didn't, he'd have other ways of getting rid of me. I wouldn't put it past him that he did have a plan."

Draco stepped in, "from now on we're on high security for you until we can deal with him… Knowing he's in cooperation with Father will be difficult though, because he'll certainly reporting back."

"But my question in, what is Lucius' plan for you if Hermione's supposedly getting in the way of that?" Cordelia's voice of silk cut through. She had a talent for lowering adrenalines.

His nostrils snarled, "I think I have an idea. _This is all to do with Maria_ …" he fell into a whisper. By the unfaltering expression on Cordelia's face, she too, was familiar. Perhaps more so than I was.

"I see. Your Father is away for Merlin knows, how long this time. It should give us at the minimum, two weeks to deal with Jake on our own. I suggest until then, keep a low profile and play your parts. Maybe we can find out what dummy has to gain from this alliance too."

Draco nodded in agreement with her. "So, Cordelia, how strong is your magic now?" a smirk blew up his face.

Cordelia met with one of her own, opening her palm. I watch with fascination, and the Chamber's lights begin to flicker manically, papers fly from their resting places with ease, and his furniture rocked the room.

I jaw dropped.

"Excellent. From here on out, you'll be teaching Hermione." He grinned.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Everyone! Hope you all enjoyed the holidays, I know mine was hectic and gifted with LOTS of HP merchandise. Any other Ravenclaw's here? If not, let me know what house you are in and whether that was the house you expected. I personally really wanted to be a Slytherin, but now I'm really content with my house. It's tattooed to my ankle, how can I not?   
> Now for the important stuff, I would like to dedicate this chapter to my best friend in the whole world; someone who has been on my fanfiction journey since the beginning of 2013, littleornaments. You can find her on here and Fanfic.net under the same user. Her current work is called Encyclopedia of Solace, and MERLIN, you guys would love it. It's a post-war fic where the students are required to be re-sorted into new houses, which sends Draco and Hermione into RAVENCLAW, and they are brought closer together this way. Her writing is sophisticated and saucy, my personal favourite mix. HATE LOOPHOLES? YOU WON'T FIND EM THERE. You won't be sorry xoxo

**The Punishing**  
Ch.13

* * *

**Hermione's POV:**

Everything was different now. I no longer looked upon the world the same. I hadn't felt this sensation since my second year of Hogwarts, the last time everything I'd known flipped upside down.

I lost count somewhere, I think I'd been in the Malfoy's possession for 3 or so months now. How that time went so fast. _And so much had already happened._

I graze the bruises that coloured my inner thighs. They'd diluted from a stormy cloud of purple's and blacks, to a greenish yellow. _Stop it, Hermione_ , I cursed myself, pulling my eyes away from the thing that keeps my nightmares a reality. I secured the clasp of my bra together and slipped the straps over my shoulders as I looked over myself in the mirror. I looked as though I'd changed. Aside the evidence of Nott's foul play, my figure filled out. No longer did my skin cling to my bones in a hollow and sickly sight, or have the grey tinge of eventual death, but now was thicker and glowing with the golden colours of liveliness and health.

For quite some time now, I'd resided to sleep in Draco's bed at night. He would start inched along the very edge of the mattress and once sleep took over, he'd roll his way closer and closer to me until his arm folded over my waist protectively. It helped me feel at ease while I slept with one eye open. Jake hadn't quite left my mind yet. He waltzed around the house normally but if I checked, I'd find him staring me down with dark eyes.

As Cordelia suggested, we went about playing our expected roles. I cleaned and attended to Draco all day, wearing a more provocative uniform than the day prior, knowing I had the watchful eyes of others keeping me out of Jake's harm.

Yesterday we'd even put on a show…

_I was taking down the drapes for their weekly wash when a symphony of shattering glass erupted from within Draco's study. Cordelia and Jake were nearby and heard the commotion too. We waited eagerly to discover what had happened._

_Then, he emerged from the office, slamming the doors so they'd cracked the dry wall! He was an image of white and red, fuming as he launched for me._

_"You," he called on me, and held me by my hair. I was startled and unnerved at where this sudden heat came from. "You, loathsome little troublemaker, I should have sold you when I had the fucking chance!"_

_That's when he slipped a wink my direction._

_"Knowing what amount of shit, you'd put me through, my name is going to be dragged through the mud if Nott doesn't settle his lawsuit!"_

This information had been mentioned the day prior, as Nott Senior pressed charges to the Malfoy family for his son's memory-less state. Lucius was enraged at the notion that Draco had anything to do with it. Never the less, with Draco's magical law studies, they'd come to a comical agreement that Nott could never possibly win his case and was making a fool of himself. Lucius couldn't possibly be happier with that outcome.

_"I'm sorry I've disappointed you, Master," I gasped, appearing panicked and fearful._

_"Don't be sorry, just don't make me regret settling for the likes of Potter's mudblood. I'll deal with your punishment tonight," Draco left me with a pair of apologetic eyes as he didn't just let go but shoved me into the wall. I staggered, unable to catch my balance and collapsed. It sold the scene more so and I caught Jake with a genuine look of both surprise and detest as he watched the Malfoy heir strut away._

Of course, he never did punish me later. He took me in his arms, apologised for the use of the term 'mudblood,' and asked if I was okay. He'd been so worried about me all afternoon until we were alone.

Narcissa was back to her drunken ways, and scarily, I wondered if she was getting worse. I sensed Draco shared the same fear. She walked around in a long robe that covered her bare figure, searching for more bottles around the house, but there were none. She'd drank the bar in less than a week. That's when she sent Cordelia and Jake out. She requested fine Nettle wines, red currant rum, Odgen's old Firewhiskey, Sherries and Ale's. All by the dozen. On top of that, she also fancied Italian food for dinner, which sent Cordelia to try to find the ingredients for Pasta Puttansesca.

"Mione," Draco's low, hushed voice cooed through the doors.

She turned, "over here," and let herself be shown.

He sighed, "Jake's just left with Mother's list. If he's even _let into_ Herbert's Liquor and Plenty at the markets, it should still take him quite some time."

In Wiltshire, the downtown markets were a hot spot for wizard goods. If you knew where to look.

"Does the owner not allow muggle-born's?" I asked.

He shook his head, "no, but he requires a secret password if you want to be shown the Wizard's selections. Otherwise, it's a muggle-fronted store." He lets out a low chuckle, likely thinking of Jake's struggle to find it.

Silence fell between us, and it was paired with a warm comfort of privacy. Aside Narcissa and her two pets, we were actually alone for once.

Draco reached, cradling his large, porcelain hand under my cheek, and he used his thumb to stroke the skin under my eye. I could hear him inhale and exhale deeply through his nose.

"I'm sorry for everything I've ever done to you," he says out of nowhere.

I bring my eyes to meet his in bewilderment. "What do you mean?"

_"For everything,"_ he tried again, searching for the best words, "back in school, I mean. I was a real jerk to you, and all over something as worthless as blood. I wish I'd known better then."

I felt lost for breath and reasoning. "Draco, I don't care you were a spoilt brat and a bully all those years ago." My voice was harsher than I'd intended it, and it made me start to cry. "That was all playground nonsense, and really, you just repeated the toxic nonsense your Father instilled into you. I don't see you as my childhood nemesis; that was another time and another world. I only see you for who you are now."

I was erratic, crumbling with wild emotions before him.

_And who he was now, was someone I was rapidly falling for._

Lost to my senses, I peaked to stand upon my toes. His breath became mine as our faces withheld a short distance from one another. I searched his eyes for a reason to stop. But I was met with a mix of gratitude and desire as they blended from grey to a dusty violet.

His lips enveloped mine, meeting me with all the yearning I put onto him. He had always tasted deliciously addictive to me; flavours of spice and peppermint usually drenching his tongue sweetly. It was madness to try feel around all the orifices inside his mouth, tasting every drop.

Draco grunts, tensing his jaw and he pulls away, "I don't think we should," he gasped for air and ran his fingers stressfully through the white of his hair.

I pressed myself to his body, hooking my index fingers through the hoops of his belt.

"Let me give myself to you… not as your slave, but as me," I murmured, a light cry to the sound of my voice. Goosebumps broke through my skin as a nervous chill came on. Inside, I was scared, that maybe that wasn't enough. Just because he had no interest in the rebellion, didn't mean I was his first choice to sleep with…

Then, he placed his knuckle under my chin, applying just enough pressure to lift my face to his. He kissed me softly and released again.

"I would want nothing more… _Hermione Granger,_ " he whispered oh so faintly.

I groped his lips between mine once more, feeling a rigid, intense and _fiery_ passion that had never been there before. It made me feel giddy mostly. Our heads moved in wide circles, rolling our lips together to feel every angle our mouths could reach.

"I need you out of this," he grumbled, running his hands up my torso, then he stopped under my breasts. "Your uniform is a burden."

_Oh, Merlin._

He slipped his hand around to my back, strategically snapping the clasp open and then tearing it away from my chest. He hissed as he enveloped my breasts with impatient grasps and then latched his mouth to my neck. I let my head fall to the other side, and both pain and pleasure ran through me as Draco bit down.

"Oh," I gasped in a surprised delight. The pain _turned into_ pleasure, sparking a flame within the pit of my gut. It was a hungry fire. My eyes rolled back, drifting closed as endorphins filled my veins.

"I've wanted you so bad, Mione, you have no fucking idea," he ravished against the sensitive, gradually bruising skin of my neck.

It made me cry out again, "I'm here and I'm yours."

He took the invitation, and threw me backwards, through the air, where I landed on his bed. He joined, crawling towards me and crouching between my legs.

"I want to pleasure you," he states boldly, eyes searing with content like I'd never seen. Convincingly, he trailed up the insides of my thighs with small peppery kisses and I began feeling a pulse beating within my vagina. In other words, my body was bending itself to his request, and he saw all the approval he needed.

He latched his mouth to my thighs, kissing deeply, while his arms hooked under and up to secure his position. I felt odd watching, and my cheeks grew hotter by the second, so I let myself fall back.

I feel his fingers fiddle around my hips until he pinched my panties. He encouraged me to lift my pelvis and slithered them down until he was tugging them off my ankles.

Then, Draco's breath tingled against the flesh of my folds. He'd done this once before, I reminded myself, though the act had come as a surprise to me. I had no clue then of what pleasures could be pursued onto a woman… As soon as he brought the contact of his lips onto my centre, I was forced to grip the sheets. It was unnerving, to say the least. The domino effect of nerves he licked over, sent my body into a hot flash and it was a feeling I'd never known. _It was so fucking good._

He applied with more pressure, tightening his lips around the apex of my clit. My hips bucked but he only pinned me down harder as he focused on my new _target area._

Every stroke of his tongue created a wave of sensations, starting a build-up I could only predict would lead to an exploding orgasm. He'd made me cum before, but this was beginning to feel like the start of something bigger. _Maybe I wasn't ready for this_ , I panicked, and my hold on the sheets tightened. I didn't think I'd be able to control myself. Even now, my hips threatened to jolt upwards with the faster and harder swiping of Draco's tongue across my clit!

When he buried his head deeper, I had to arch my back upon impact.

_"Holy FUCK!"_ I screamed.

I could feel it now, and it was coming on at an alarming pace. Like a heat wave, or a tsunami, maybe both, and I was cold, but I was also sweaty…

"I'm- I'm gonna," I panted, knowing the incoming uproar of pleasure would be unlike anything I'd felt before.

Before I knew it, my body began convulsing and an ungodly scream rolled off my tongue, but Draco still held me down and rode my orgasm out as long as he could.

The wave crashed, rolling like white wash on the beach and then pulling back with the tide. I was utterly deflated.

Draco's head peeped up from between my legs, and though he licked his lips, his chin was left soaked. In the most Draco-Malfoy of ways, he grinned up at me. It said that he was satisfied with my satisfaction.

As he propped himself on his elbows, he shuffled up to hover over my weak and limp frame. "I'm not so sure I need to ask now if that was good," he huffed jokingly.

I smiled up at him, still feeling the come down of the orgasm. "I guess it was alright," I said, but was unable to hold a straight face and was left laughing at my own joke.

Draco's laugh danced with mine and I felt his chest heaving against with each cackle.

When the joy dimmed, silence became the loudest sound. It penetrated our focus to stare into one another's eyes. His usually grey and secretive iris glimmered with purple undertones now, and I thought they were beautiful.

_He was beautiful._

His blonde locks fell in front of his face, slightly sticking to the veil of sweat upon his forehead. I reached up and combed it back with my fingers. He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, enjoying the light scalp massage it gave him in the process.

When his eyes fluttered open again, the purple brightened. "Hermione," he gulped, "I want you to know… I love you."

My heart pulverised inside its cavity, strumming with life.

Such tenderness was unknown to me. The bushy-haired, buck-toothed Gryffindor girl I used to be once knew of it. Oh yes, it shared that beautifully familiar tingle… A tingle she felt when she kissed her mother and father goodbye at Platform 9 ¾ and whenever she reunited with Harry and Ron, who welcomed her friendship with open arms.

A tingle, that was, essentially to feel love and compassion from another.

_So why did this feel different?_

Less so of a tingle, and more of a burn, accompanied my beating heart. It was new and it was exciting. It felt raw and angry, like my chest was about to concave. I even considered it was fear that triggered such reactions.

No, not likely.

I deeply exhale, boring my eyes up at him with wonder. He is beginning to look panicked at my long-awaited response.

"I'm sorry Draco," is all I can start with. "I- I want to say it back, I really do, but I don't understand myself just yet. You have to understand this is still… _new_ , to me. _You're still new_ ," I pause, finding his wrist, and I guide it to feel my chest, "you make me feel things, Draco Malfoy, new and exciting things. If I can be sure of anything, it's that I want to be around you all the time."

His eyes lingered on his own hand, as it felt the thrashing of my heart beating up against my skin like a war drum. Finally, I get him to look at me.

"I couldn't ask for more," he smiled. "You _have me_ , Hermione Granger."

His lips enveloped mine once more, and I tasted my cum that lingered on his mouth.

Surging with a strong appetite, he pressed our bodies together and I felt all the evidence I needed to know he was ready. _Merlin, he was so fucking hard_ , it had to be an extra inch longer than before.

I wrapped my legs around him, locking behind his back, and welcome him openly. I wanted to feel as much of him as I could, only, as much as we grinded, it wasn't satisfying our yearning itch.

I moan out of frustration.

Draco grunts in agreement and tears his shirt away into shredded pieces on the floor. His skin was scolding to the touch, and against my cold sweat we made steam froth from our bodies with a soft hiss. Then came the discarding of his trousers, and they shimmed down his thighs with struggle as he couldn't get them off fast enough.

"I want to try something," I whispered, cupping his cheek as I pursed my lips by his ear.

His ears perk up to hear my sweet words.

"When we… can I be on top?" my lips tremored.

He collapsed on top of me, and the sounds of restraint gurgled from his throat to his lips. "We can do it however you want," he moaned, kissing my collarbone where he also gave a light nibble. Oh, how I missed that feeling.

Light sparks ignited in my core as he bit down again, and I threw my head back into the pillow. Draco made me feel things my body could not resist, literally begging for the endorphins that pumped through me whenever he did.

I press my palms to his chest, lightly at first, then push him to roll over. I'm quick to follow and swing my knee over to straddle his hips. He grabs them with firm hands, keeping me pressed to his hard-on. I smirk and lean over to keep kissing him. Meanwhile, Draco's hands reach down, thumb hooked into his briefs, and he slips them down enough to release his throbbing erection.

And it really was throbbing. He gripped it with his hand, steading the beast to stay upright.

I hovered above but kept my eyes on his.

He was at my entrance, poking its head through, and I halted for a moment.

Watching him, he was breathing heavily. He was peering up at me too, looking for any signs of doubt I may have. When I showed none, a smile, warm like dawn, picked at the corners of his lips faintly.

I lowered myself, and he penetrated through my folds. Draco's eyes snapped shut and he bit his lip at my tightness. Though slick with a hot, wet mess, I was tightly enclosed around him and had to ease gently to fit all the way.

But when I did, the ecstasy simmered within both our centres.

While inside me, I leaned over to find his lips. He gripped my chin roughly to kiss me, though I didn't protest, and met him with the same eager drive.

Strange, how we'd had sex before, and yet this had an eerie sensation of being our first time…

I realised of course, I'd given myself to him to punish me and for him to give into his obvious needs, whereas this was about feeling _all_ of each other; on the inside and outside. It was addictive, to say the least and I began rocking my hips experimentally.

He glided against me in small movements, and I started to find my rhythm. I rocked back and forth, with more certainty, and it was met with his approving sounds. He held onto my thighs to brace himself and had to let go of the kiss.

"Oh, fuck me, Hermione, that feels so good," he begged.

I was still working at him gently but feeling how with every stroke I brought down on him, his foreskin would roll with me, I was immersed in wonder at the friction this brought between us. I could see this brought him a lot of pleasure, and I felt an oncoming wave of confidence being the one in control of _his_ climax.

I smirked, and eased back onto him, filling him into my wet heat inch at a time.

Draco wasn't having it, and a hand that once gripped my hips, dove down where his thumb circled my clit.

"I can play that game too," he chuckled lightly, strumming my most sensitive area, as his filthy words filled the silence between us.

I let out a gentle cry when he stroked me as my inner walls started to flutter early.

_No, not yet. I can't cum yet._

I picked up pace, hearing the tell-tale slap of flesh as I did so. It only made it worse, and I felt myself clenching with want. The pad of his thumb worked at a terribly tantalising speed, rubbing harshly. Then, I started breathing heavier, and breathing turned into loud, wordless noises of pleasure. I squeezed around him, beginning to faulter in my movements as I tried to keep riding him, but my legs grew weak and spasmed around his sides.

Draco propped himself to his elbows, taking one arm to hook around the back of my neck to draw me in closer. "I won," he hummed in triumph then lowered himself back down.

I was exhausted, feeble with the remaining trembling in my abdomen.

He flipped us in one strong motion, placing me on my back as he braced himself between my legs. He held his cock out, lining it up first before thrusting in. He bit on his lip, and it sling-shot back out from under his perfect teeth. I felt the gushing of heat.

"Oh, you're so wet," he noted with a raspy voice.

He thrust his hips, holding me still for him with his hands around my waist, and I started letting out repetitive moans as he hit the back of me. _The G-Spot, Cordelia had called it_ , I remembered. She had been right about its sensitivity too, and I could feel the nerves writhing when he met them. Draco scooped up a portion of my hair and swept it out of the way, splashing across the pillow.

"I don't think I'm going to last long with you feeling like this," his face contorted.

Sweat evenly coated up the centre of his abs and chest. He was fighting a battle within himself and grunted. In the heat of his inner-conflict, he gave off a surge of energy and powered through.

He fucked me into the mattress, pile driving his pelvis into every swing of his hips. His mouth parted, falling open as his eyelids flittered shut uncontrollably. Meanwhile, I admired his secret figure; one of many hidden muscles and toning beneath his button ups. He was contoured from the bow under his pectorals, the cut-crease ridges in his abs, and to his thick shoulders leading into sturdy biceps. The pulsated with his movements. I reached my nails up and dragged them down his chest sensually.

He grinned down at me, stealing a kiss and continuing a path down my neck. I brought my hips up, snapping them against his to meet deeply. Unable to match his pace when I felt myself crumble, my walls clenched again, triggering my third orgasm.

I closed my eyes, preparing myself for it, when I felt him grasp my jaw. "No," he pants, "keep them open. I want to watch you fall apart."

I do as he says, as he continued to fuck me through my build-up. He quivered between my legs, sending out notions he was on brink of climax too.

_"Draco,"_ I moan desperately. It was hard, so hard, to not squeeze my eyes closed, and as the orgasm came to its peak performance, I could only scream. "DRACO!"

"Oh, Mione, I'm coming," Draco falls into an uneven rhythm of strokes, falling victim to his climax too. "Ugh," he seethes through his teeth intensely, and our sounds muddle together as one.

He collapsed on me, completely covering my frame as he fought for his breath back. I felt his abdomen clench and release against mine, the muscles quivering in his orgasm's after-math. Stroking his spine gently with my nails, and the other hand playing with the hair on the back of his nape, he began to settle against me, until the only thing left to hear was our heartbeats frantically beating together.

"I'm yours," he whispers through a final breath, as sleep seemed to take over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you're all desperate to find out and ask, so fine, here it is; YES, she got up to pee and drink water after. I encourage you all to do so as well.   
> Not even sponsored.   
> All jokes aside, happy reading everyone xoxo
> 
> thebookworm121


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one, unfortunately, but it will still hopefully bring some enlightenment for what has been and what is to come!

**The Punishing**  
Chapter 14

* * *

**No one's POV:**

With Draco cuddled against Hermione's chest and her arm around him, he was stirred by her scent. She hadn't fallen asleep yet, unlike him. She'd been absent-mindedly twirling locks of his hair and scratching his scalp while she thought of _things._

Hermione's anxieties progressed through her life drastically. In a world where you had to predict the unpredictable, it stole much-needed sleep and sanity. She would stay up questioning what her Master had do to that day; think of anything happened the day before – or week before – that could influence their mood; had they drank, etc. It helped, sometimes. She found that she could wake up and go about her days with minimum damage if she'd already taken the time to avoid putting herself in a difficult situation. But, on the other hand, sometimes it wouldn't matter.

The scars on her back seemed like a nightmare to Hermione. She barely remembered how she got them and tried not to look at them so that they stayed that way. It had been a day where she awoke to begin regular chores for her Master; water the vegetable garden, feed and brush the Pegasus that they bred and sold, collect daily supplies from the markets, make the family breakfast, clean the dishes and kitchen, all by 7am.

She enjoyed spending time with the Pegasus. It was the only time she felt like she wasn't a slave by being alone with them at the early break of morning. They were fond of her too, and she'd gotten rather attached.

On that fateful morning, she was outside tending to the garden when she heard smashing glass and a terrifying roar that only could belong to her Master. He was the man of the house; a tradesman who dealt as far as Europe if someone peaked an interest in buying his winged-horses. He'd just come back from a trip with three less Pegasus. He came staggering out to the front porch and his demon-eyes scanned his property for his slave-girl. When he laid eyes on her, a feeling she couldn't describe came over her with trembling knees. She nearly had tried to run. He had looked so terrifying, she felt if he got to her, she may not live.

He dragged her inside, not letting her gain her footing and she scraped along the rocks and sticks among the barren grass. She cried, thinking this would be the end of her.

He'd thrown her into the basement and shackled her to the wall, tearing her wenches dress down her back so it was bare.

That's when he started whipping her. She screamed, Merlin did she scream, but she had a feeling she couldn't have been doing it loud enough since it didn't seem to be doing anything. She lost count of lashes, perhaps 15, perhaps 27… she wasn't sure. Then he dropped the whip and went back upstairs like it was nothing, leaving her chained to the wall.

She hoped she'd just die. That, they'd forget about her and the pain, hunger and shock would take her away from this evil place.

Hermione never found out what brought on such a violent attack.

The struggle returning to her chores the next day, and even over the next several months, was unbearable. Her long gashes never got a chance to heal as they'd split back open during work.

That may have been the darkest chapter of Hermione's life, if there weren't so many others. When Nott had taken her, she felt like she was back on that farm; where people didn't need reasons to do bad things to her. She felt that way because after spending time under Draco's ownership, she developed a sense of trust and her routine mental-preparation before bed had disappeared. She didn't need to worry; or so she had thought.

Never the less, while she trusted Draco was a good Master… _no, he was better than that_ , she thought.

She felt a faint blush come on, recalling his confession just hours ago. That felt faintly like a dream too.

Regardless, she kept her guard up. After all, she was in the snake pit, surrounded by the most influential people in the New Wizarding World. His father was Minister, and he supposedly had plans to dispose of her.

Hermione was broken free from reliving those memories as Draco stirred and awoke. Still exhausted, he chose not to move from his position across her chest. She hardly minded.

He sensed that she was distressed or otherwise occupied elsewhere and tried taking her mind off it. So, they spent the rest of the night right, up until dusk, talking and asking each other questions.

Hermione had learnt that his favourite food was tomato soup, because the House Elves would give it to him when he was sick. But he always told people it was Roast Duck.

He was still afraid of storms and the dark…

He'd never learned to swim.

His favourite colour was _actually_ red.

He hated the colour yellow.

His secret talent was sketching, and he'd gotten his creative side from his Mother.

He hated having his photo taken and didn't actually like looking at himself in them.

That in their second year of Hogwarts, against contrary belief, Draco had won his position as seeker on his own and the brooms were a gift to the team from his father _afterwards_.

He didn't particularly enjoy alcohol unless it was elderflower wine.

And that then he was six, he accidentally dyed his hair, eyelashes and eyebrows _green_. 

Hermione was in a fit of laughter most of the night from the wild, personal stories of his childhood. She enjoyed seeing him open and honest with her. It fed the warmth that glowed inside of her when she was with him.

If she had known half these things about him back in school, she figured that perhaps she would have looked at him differently as they made him more humane.

That thought dimmed quickly when she thought about Ron and Harry… she missed them so much and hoped they were safe. Last she knew, the Weasley's picked up the Burrow and took off to another country to escape the blood-traitor harassment and Harry was hidden away in a secret location with the Order. Bellatrix had said that they'd suspect to have found their hide-out. Hermione hoped that they were smart enough to be a step or two ahead of her… but Bellatrix was an insane murderer and very dedicated to serving the dark lord.

Somehow - she couldn't remember- she actually fell asleep in Draco's embrace. She didn't need to worry anymore…

* * *

**Draco's POV:**

"Again," I instructed, peeking up from the pages of my textbook.

Hermione was in training with Cordelia to practice wandless magic. When the Punishing began, all the muggle-born's that were sorted from their schools had their wands confiscated and burned. Access to a new wand for them both would be difficult. It seemed, anyway, that Cordelia had gotten around that obstacle already.

I watched her, levitating darts off the desk and flying them straight into the dart-board. They'd hit the centre with extreme accuracy and depth.

"It's all about focus. Focus on the energy around you; you don't have a wand, you must be the wand. What would the wand do?" She asked, walking to the target and ripping the darts out to reset. "What does every class in school require? A wand. Our only ticket into manipulating the magical universe is _with_ that wand. Does that mean we're useless without them? NO, there is magic inside of us, we just have to dig deep and USE IT!"

Cordelia was getting intense, firing Hermione up to try again and again. She'd managed to levitate and throw the darts, but her accuracy was so-so. I was on stand-by for damage control as I read through my law studies.

Her words were captivating, and I found myself gradually lowering my textbook further from my nose to listen.

_We're only useful if we have our wands_ … ticked inside my head and I kept peering down at my own wand. It was made of Hawthorne Wood and Unicorn hair.

I began thinking about everything my father had taught me, and it hit me all at once; how incredibly _useless_ blood status was when our magic sourced from the properties of _other_ magical creatures.

I thought of Snape, how he had once said something similar in Potions class…

_"As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic."_

This revelation shook me harder than anything that had tried to knock me down before. _Everything the Wizarding World centred their practice and beliefs on was a lie._

I'm sucked out of my trance by the sound of wisping darts, soaring through the ear, followed by a loud crack.

Hermione was huddled over, breathing deeply. The darts had not only hit the target, but had it split in two, with the darts penetrating through the dry wall behind.

Cordelia was wide-eyed, and a smile stained her lips proudly.

_She'd done it._

"Now, we move onto spells…" she said.

The study was at Hermione and Cordelia's disposal, under my supervision, of course. We had to be cautious of Jake still roaming the halls, and for now casted a silencing charm on the doors.

I was coming to the end of my law studies and would be able to register in the Ministry within a week or so if I put the work in. _I needed that power for what I had planned_ …

If Jake was being truthful, then he and my father were indeed conspiring to _mould me_ into an ideal, public-figure Malfoy, who indulged in the finer things in life and owned a harem of slaves. Hermione had meant to be my undoing; a tool to make me see that her kind did not deserve to be welcomed into our world. That's why she was so perfect, as I had _despised_ the girl in school. She was once the very reason I used to believe magic should be kept by purebloods only.

Deep down, I feared what would have happened if he was right. The moment I saw Hermione Granger, grown out of her pre-pubescent body, I felt my chest tighten with the memories of her and her trio of friends patrolling Hogwarts like it was their kingdom. I couldn't see past it… hypothetically, Father's plan _should_ have worked.

Hermione should have reminded me of where we stand as blood She should have reminded me that Maria was one of them too, as was their bastard son and that we had no business raising him as one of our own.

_At least, that's what they'd_ hoped _I'd conclude to_ …

I'd never been further from their brainwashing games.

Hermione studied daily, devouring one book after another. I'd seen her mimicking and repeating the incantations under her breath and twiddling her fingers in waving motions. She practiced until she was physically drained an exhausted, writing on any bits of scrap paper she found lying around; Stunning Spell, Patronus Charm, Reductor Curse, Tickling Charm, Impediment Jinx, Full Body-Bind Curse, Disarming Charm, Shield Charm and General Counter-Spell was listed on the back of an old envelope.

Just like in Hogwarts, she proved that she was as clever as any of us; re-learning and teaching herself new content. It put her right into her element as she so quickly caught up before my eyes.

It became a disturbing thought to me how us Purebloods seethed at the idea of muggle-born's harnessing the power of magic, as though it were stolen. It made even little sense for our dismissal of half-breeds too. Hermione Granger proved we were all the same… that there was magic within all of us, and we'd just known about it longer.

My heart inflamed, filling in every break and crack I'd endured over the past few years.

_I couldn't lose her_ …

I hadn't meant to think of it, but I couldn't deny it was in the back of my head. Regardless of our feelings, it didn't cancel out the fact of who I was and who she was. We were still on opposite ends of this war with my father as Minister and her as the poster-child for why the Punishing began in the first place…

_Fuck it_ , I thought and inhaled through my nostrils sharply. I slammed my law textbook down hard and zipped across the study to where she lay curled on the carpet, surrounded by books and parchment.

She looked up from her note-taking and I offered my hands for her to stand with me.

On her feet and standing so close in front of me, I took another breath. "Show me what you've learned," I asked.

She smiled at my request, naturally, being able to put her knowledge to the test.

She stood across the room and pinned her sight to one of the couch cushions. Her palm stretched out and with the quick whish of her fingers, blue light immersed from their tips at the sound of her voice.

"Reducto!" She said stiffly.

The pillow exploded into dust with an efficient _pop_.

Hermione looked to me with excitement behind her eyes, almost begging for her to test out more. I was more than obliged to watch.

She seemed to come to life, using magic. I could see the real her when she practiced. It had scarily crossed my mind that the girl I'd been falling for wasn't exactly herself… I had to be right. I could only hold onto the hope that when things were different, she'd still feel the same way about me, and I'd feel the same about her.

_I knew_ I _would_.

She flashed one spell after the other on meaningless bits of stationery and trinkets, and all with success, they'd suffer the effects of her spells.

I sighed with relief, consumed by the wonder in my eyes.

_She was ready._


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this chapter took so long! I feel like I wrote and deleted everything over and over!   
> Hope you all enjoy this one though.   
> I do not own anything from JK's wonderful world of Harry Potter, however, additional characters with unknown names are mine (Cordelia, Jake, Charles Finn, etc).

**The Punishing**  
Chapter 15

* * *

**Hermione's POV:**

I lounged amongst the charcoal-grey sheets that made up Draco's bed, feeling their coolness on my humid skin. Beside me, he laid asleep.

Our relationship was strange in the sense that we'd claimed each other's mind and bodies, and I felt an attachment to him that I couldn't explain. The reality was, no matter what, that we never really could be together. I think he knew that too. The Punishing was set in stone, and a war to reverse what damage had been done would last years… how could we possibly grow into something where we could call this real.

_He loved me._

How foolish he was. Tears brimmed along my lower lash line suddenly, and the heaviness left them overflowing and down my face. Why bring something like that into _this_ world, where I was enslaved by his people?

I grieved, knowing why I was truly angered and upset. It was because I had to call these feelings for him _love_.

_No, Hermione, don't do this to yourself_. I begged myself, resisting admittance. But the truth was alive, that I loved him too. He was just as much a slave to politics as I was, and his vulnerable demeanour had been perfect enough for me to meet the person I'd fall for.

_Fuck. What now? How would we ever escape our fate?_

The simple answer was; we wouldn't. I saw no way around our situation to a place where our feelings would be welcomed.

In my efforts to distract myself from a cycle of troubling thoughts, I let my fingers dance in a spiral, watching small sparks ignite off the tips. For the first time since the Punishing began, I was reminded of who I was; a witch. At least, _in some people's eyes_.

The light, like little bolts of lightning, spasmed in a great orb and I managed to pull a smile out of this depression. Cordelia had been right about not needing a wand to conduct magic. She explained in more detail later that _how else_ would Muggles, like us, be capable of conducting it in the first place? How else were we known about by the schools? We possess it within.

I wondered how something so simple and so beautiful, could be so rejected and looked over by an entire society of Wizards. They accepted _Squibs_ more than us, purely because of their heritage. If anything, it showed we were all the same, and it came down to a matter of nature and nurture. Muggles, being hidden from the secret that there was magic in our universe, had no means to, per se, _access_ that power within themselves, while children like Draco were introduced to it from birth.

I'd checked my family tree numerous times, for a witch or wizard ancestor who had attended any schools from Hogwarts in Scotland, Durmstrang, Beaubatons, Ilvermorny and even Mahoutokoro in Asia. No such heritage existed within my blood.

My gut turned like a muggle's washing machine as I came to a final realisation that our _best_ solution was to walk away while we still could.

_Of course_ , I wiped my tears only for them to be replaced with new ones, _I had to give up the one good thing to happen to me in the past- ugh, who knew anymore_.

For now, I'd use what time I had with him, but my mind would be occupied with leaving. However I was going to manage to do that…

Morning arose and so did I, leaving his drapes pulled closed so the early rays didn't stir him. Fetching a new uniform for the day, I leaned for a _bold_ look as my fingers ran down some leather material. It was a one-pieced suit, cupping around my arse cheeks and leading down into suspenders. The chest was open in a key-hole shape, and it trailed down to my belly button teasingly. I had the sneaky feeling Draco would approve fondly.

Before he woke, I started my day by falling in with Cordelia, who was already up and dusting. I hid the smile I sent her, cautious of Jake's presence only in the next room where he cleaned and polished the glass-wear that Narcissa had used up. When they'd run out last night by dinner, she skulled from the bottle instead as a very tired and drained looking Charles and Finn stood behind her. Those boys were being fucked senseless and more than usual.

Cordelia explained that they _adored_ Narcissa and worshiped the ground she stepped on. She said that in her chambers, they get to indulge in all sorts of rich refinements as well as the great company she made. _She treated them as lovers, not slaves_ , Cordelia confirmed, having been told by Charles and Finn themselves.

The door bell rang, loud and intimidatingly. It would be in the Malfoy nature to not own a door bell that dimed like others, but one that boomed like old gothic church bells.

I looked to Cordelia cautiously and she shared my nervousness. We had the most to hide, after all. With a sense of courage, I stepped towards the door and opened it wide slowly.

"Oh, morning Granger," Theodore Nott sneered with amusement.

Part of me wished it was the Ministry to grace the foyer instead.

He stepped into their home and looked around curiously. "Draco. Where is he?" He asked me flatly.

"My Master is asleep," I admitted. It was already approaching nine in the morning, he should have been up by now.

"Hm," he hummed to himself curiously, "well, you'll have to get him up, I have to speak with him rather urgently."

I bow as Cordelia took my place, offering to host Theodore Nott with a beverage while he waited. I heard him ask for a coffee, strongly made.

I climbed the flight of stairs, minding how my posture made me look. Was I being submissive? Dominant? Fearful? Resentful? Every position my muscles clamped together in, made all the difference.

As suspected, Draco was sprawled over the middle of the bed. He was knocked out cold.

"Draco," I whispered, locking his door. He didn't flinch and so I approach his bed. "Draco. Draco," I repeat, placing my palms delicately to his stomach.

His eyelashes began fluttering ever so faintly before he peeled them open.

"What is it?" He asked, groaning through his stiff voice box and then coughing.

"Theo is here," I lowered my voice, and stole a nervous glance at the door. "He wants to speak with you."

Draco's tiredness seemed to wither away as I watched his golden brows crease and then he began rising from his mattress to dress. He didn't put much effort into it and simply threw on a plain white shirt that fitted his upper frame deliciously and a pair of tracksuit pants. I hadn't even known he owned something like that as his attire generally consisted of formal suits in all black. Sometimes a splash of white if it he was feeling laid back.

"You'd better come down with me. You know the drill?" He asked quickly, securing the tracksuit's waistband on his chiselled hips.

I nod confidently and fall short of his long strides.

Their eyes meet from atop the stairs. Nott is standing proudly, sipping at his coffee, and when he lowers it, a smug grin emerges as he swallows.

"Malfoy," he addresses him courteously.

Draco only nods in acknowledgement. "You'll have to forgive me, I was enjoying my Sunday slumber. I hope my girls attended to you," he switched his gaze to Cordelia, who waited in the corner with her head low, so that her eyes were locked to the floor. I did the same, standing at Draco's side. It was impolite for one of us to appear in any way _engaged_ to their private business…

"I understand our fathers are involved in a lawsuit, however, I thought I'd take it upon myself to bring the matters up with you directly," he says, inspecting the dark-roast liquid in his mug as if it were one of his more pleasant experiences or worst.

"I see," Draco says.

Nott sighs, "I'm hosting another soiree at my home tonight. Blaise will be in attendance, and I expect Pansy and the Greengrass sisters to make an appearance too. Join us, will you?" He dared.

Draco was calm, "of course. 8 o'clock?"

He nods, "sharp."

"Excellent."

With a fix of his cuffs, he gave his farewells as he strolled from the manor.

Draco let out a sigh, though his posture didn't fail him. "Cordelia, would you see to a brunch of sorts?" He asks.

She curtsies, "yes, Master Draco," and finds her way into the kitchen.

Draco captures my attention by placing his palm at the small of my back, but I notice he doesn't look at me. "Come," he simply says in a low, voice, and he leads us towards the study.

He firmly closes its doors, enchanting it with a lock. I watch his shoulders rise and fall to his heavy breaths.

"Draco?" I pipe up in the comfort of our privacy.

He finds his composure and spins quickly, leaning his back against the door. He still can't even look at me and his nostrils were flared out. Suddenly, his body lashes out in one great movement and he punches the closest wall.

His fist smashes through the plaster and a poof of white dust explodes, only to sprinkle down to the floor like pixie dust.

I rush over to him, taking his wrist and cradling it to my chest as I gasp in panic.

"Draco! Don't hurt yourself like that!" I gape at him. There was blood trickling from his knuckles, down his forearm. He'd split the skin that covered his bones.

I scurry away, aiming for the bookshelf where I knew there to be a volume on healing spells and remedies. The spine of _Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions_ hooked under my finger as I pulled it out and then frantically began flipping through the pages. I had been sure to pass a spell in here to knit his wounds.

Found it.

Draco has come up behind me, cradling his fist and waiting for my help.

I trace my finger along the spiked curve of his knuckles, _"Vulnera Sanentur,"_ I chant repetitively under my breath, watching the blood flow slow and skin bind back together.

I hadn't realised I was crying, but he had, and he took his healthy hand to wipe it from my cheekbone.

"I'm sorry, I just," he tried to say, but was lost for an explanation.

I peered up through my wet eyelashes, waiting for him. I realised I didn't like seeing him angry. But it wasn't out of fear for my safety, but for him getting hurt. The Malfoy's were infamously renowned for their power, before and after the Punishing. Generations of their family had played their parts in influencing both their political and social views and succeeded. Draco was no different to them when it came to seeking to obtain his desires. He had the ability to dig deep and identify what that was, as Lucius also did, and plan and manipulate the system into his favour for it.

I watched him chew on his gums nervously before he spoke. "I want this to be over," he said. "Whatever it is Nott wants to say to me, involves you, and I can't put you through it on good conscience."

I sway in astonishment.

"You can't just hide from these things, Draco. Like it or not, you are an immediate member associated with those who control our _entire_ world. Your input is as good as theirs and you need to show _them_ that!" I yelled, heaving from a source of irritation I hadn't felt was sitting there. It was in the open now.

Draco's jaw tensed as he clicked his tongue. "You know perfectly well what would become of not just me, but you as well, if I stood up for what I believed in," he said in a warning voice.

_No. That's just not good enough._

"They're gaining in on you, Draco! With plans to do Godric-knows what if you take one wrong step! You don't have to change the world, but you _do_ need to remind Nott of exactly who he's talking to. Like it or not, Lucius is Minister of Magic, and you are his son. For all the wrong reasons, he will protect your families' reputation, meaning it's Nott Senior and Junior who should be worried, _not_ you," my teeth bare and my tongue is flat against them as the words ooze like poison.

He was wide-eyed, mouth parted in a stunned 'o'.

"I don't know how," he tremored.

I sigh, and hold his chin, "we start tonight. You don't have to worry about protecting me all the time… you need help too." The last part I had whispered as though I was choking. It felt like I was letting him go, somehow.

In my deep subconscious, I'd made my bed and decided I should go, for the both of us.

Cordelia, upon finishing her daily chores, spent several hours in the slave dorms sewing and stitching together a refreshing set of uniforms for tonight. She was coming too, as were Charles and Finn, generously donated by Narcissa. I wondered how she'd entertain herself for the night.

She'd laid out the black, fishnet bodysuit, cuffed at the neck in leather, over Draco's bed for me, attached to a pair of heels that would strap around in a criss-cross design over my shins. She'd helped me put them on, already in a matching fishnet halter top and boy-cut panties.

"Have you attended one of Nott's parties before?" I asked nervously. The last time I had went was during my early impressions of Draco Malfoy; when he was just a confusing mess of emotions to study.

She licked her lips, "once, I went with Lucius as the parents were in attendance also. It was shortly after Maria died… He had me passed around the table of disgusting old men."

I felt her pain as she spoke them. The fear as a slave after one's Master had let another die like a fly on the wall, was unlike any other. You questioned how little it would take for them to decide you were disposable also. You questioned how they would do it and when, to accept your death sooner. It was thoughts like these that broke our kind to our last bone. _Why so many of us took the easy way out_ …

Cordelia fought a lot of silent battles, I realised. She had to be in one of the worst positions a Slave could be in; under the one with all the power over not only herself, but _all_ slaves. She was nothing to him, and she knew it. She knew her undeniable beauty was his trophy, to be paraded around to his colleagues. At the Yule Ball, I'd caught a glimpse of her doing her rounds, offering trays of drinks to the other Masters, and they'd all openly sexually harassed her in one way or another. It was no wonder she had to teach herself magic to feel _any_ sense of security.

I gave her a look. It didn't mean much from the outside, but inside it meant that everything was going to be okay. She responded with a half-cocked smile as she finished tying the last strap on my calf.

We met Draco in the Foyer, where he stood with Narcissa. She was clothed today, and modestly. I noted she was missing her signature fragrance of liquor. I silently felt happy for her and her son.

Charles and Finn crossed from the left wing of the stairs, both shirtless with their own leather chokers, thick-strapped suspenders down their chests that hooked into silky black shorts.

Finn had wavy, sandy blonde hair, complimented by a longer face and sturdy chin. He was shorter than Charles, but certainly with broader chest and shoulders, while Charles was a handsome brunette with an athletic figure of ripped stomach muscle.

Draco cleared his throat, forcing himself to peel his eyes off his mother's boy-toys and onto me. A sound of ravishment slipped off his tongue.

The fishnet body suit was just simply that… fishnet and nothing else. Beneath the _lack of_ material, was less so, as I hadn't worn any underwear to cover the lips of my pussy, nor a bra, which left my breasts in full exposure. Cordelia's two-piece fell consistent to mine, revealing her perky tits and dark, hazel nipples through the holes.

Draco, to tie us all in, smashingly wore a charcoal morning-coat and trouser, with a light grey double-breasted waistcoat and satin tie. I began salivating at the mouth at his _lighter_ choice in colour scheme and classical attire.

Narcissa's nostrils flared out as she inhaled deeply, "you be safe," she said to nobody-in-particular. It felt like she didn't only mean her son.

"Of course, Mother," he said, kissing her rosy-apple cheeks.

The green flame of the fireplace ignited before my eyes as I felt my skin be enveloped by it and the Floo took us to the home of Theodore Nott.

We filed out, following Draco's head-strong lead. I could tell he was racking his nerves, holding himself strong to avoid failure.

* * *

**Draco's POV:**

"Draco!" Nott cheered, raising his glass. He had been right, Blaise, Pansy, Astoria and Daphne were the only others invited to his soiree.

"Ladies, gentleman," I address with polite nods of my head.

The room looked not to me, but behind, where my four slaves stood in utter submission to me. I wasn't particularly known to carry them in numbers, as they usually did, unable to find satisfaction out of one partner.

Cordelia had designed their uniforms with a sense of _dominance_ , that wasn't typically shown in slave-wear. It was subtle enough not to shake the balance; hinting that they weren't just under my control but had some of their own to be used for purely sexual matters. It was selling the idea well, judging by the astonished and almost jealous faces of my comrades.

"Someone wants to play tonight," Blaise cackled deviously, running his finger across his lip.

I chuckle under my breath, finding my seat at the head of the table once more.

"Cordelia," I snapped my fingers, "up there."

She submitted fully to my orders and takes to the stage where she joined three other entertainers of Nott's. She looked far more intimidating and brought the attention onto herself.

"Isn't she your Father's slave?" Nott asked me, unable to bring himself to take his eyes off of her sensual dancing.

"He's not using her, is he?" I scoff, bringing Hermione to sit at my feet so I could pet her hair whilst Charles and Finn stood firmly behind. I asked them to find me a beverage and keep them filled for the remainder of the night.

Nott seemed to agree with my logic.

"Blaise, how are your studies travelling along?" I drew the conversation to down the table.

He shrugged his shoulder, "I'm starting to think there's no point," he says. I knew Blaise had wanted to be a teacher and understood his hesitation to dedicate his time until action was taken on refurbishing the schools.

"I still don't see why you'd want to become a professor back at that school. You should be a Hit Wizard in the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol," Nott input.

"My second choice would be a professional Quidditch Player, then commentator, then coach, _then_ Ministry," he replied tensely. Blaise's parent's, unlike ours, hadn't been Death Eaters, though that didn't put aside his own personal prejudice's against muggle-born's and blood-traitors. His Father wasn't in the picture either. Just his mum and several new step-fathers that mysteriously died leaving them a generous inheritance.

"There is no more Quidditch," Astoria laughed.

"I _know that_ , Astoria" he bellowed with frustration. He was rather handy on a broom back in school and made an excellent player on the Slytherin too.

I looked up to find Cordelia. Her dirty-blonde bangs fell over her eyes, so you could only see her parted lips. She channelled herself to dance for them, letting her back glide down the pole to fall into a squat.

"So, Draco," Nott quietly grabs my attention while Blaise discussed the ridiculousness of the Ministry not funding the sport. "Why the extra entertainment? Not getting bored of Granger already, are you?" He joked.

I didn't find it funny.

She still was at my feet, resting her head against my knee as I stroked her hair.

"No, not yet, she'll always be my pet. Cordelia is a _wild spirit_ , if you will, and like I said, she's not in use, and I enjoy watching her dance for me. As for Charles and Finn, I've been making them more useful to me as of late," I said, picking at my cuticles as though this conversation bored me. But it did.

Nott didn't press the matter, he appeared impressed enough with my answer.

Instead, he brought up the real reason I was here.

"I'm growing _tired_ of my Father's menacing habits. This lawsuit has dragged on far too long in my opinion," he sipped on his brandy.

I was inadequately taken back by his opening statement.

"I see, what makes you say that?" I ask, no wavering in my tone.

He shrugs, "my father is a paranoid arse, Malfoy, you've known this as well as I and that it's only gotten worse since…" he paused, unable to bring up his Mother, "since then. The prat works at the Ministry in London for months at a time without as much as a letter home. I may not remember how I ended up in your maze, but I know I'm capable of getting utterly smashed to blacking out. Plus, I wouldn't put it past the old man that he is using it to try overpower your Father as Minister." His words were harsh, laced with a lot of unhinged hatred that I hadn't seen from him since the early stages of the Punishing. Before he fell victim to alcoholism and slave girls to waste away his lonely days.

_He was still a fucking rapist though._

"I'm sorry your relationship with your Father has gotten so bad, my friend," I offer carefully. "In truth, I feel the same towards Lucius, so I understand where you're coming from. What do you suggest we do of the lawsuit?"

He smirked, "I had thoughts of buying some new slave and have her bring forth a witness testimony that I was with her in the garden." There was underlying amusement in his tone as though he knew it was too perfectly in character. It would make his Father look like a fool.

"Slaves in our new world mean nothing in the Law industry, unfortunately. If you really want good enough evidence, pay off a guest to make a testimony that they'd seen you _stumbling_ off with another girl – preferably one of similar features to Granger's. There's a greedy twat in my Father's office who would surely be more than willing to deface your Father's name; Artemis Brown," I suggest, almost vomiting the idea to him as we were closer to putting this nonsense back in our favour.

Beneath me, Hermione peeped, adjusting her sore knees.

"Up," I said to her flatly.

She crawled to sit across my lap, just how I liked her to be. Everything of hers was showing, even the parts I would prefer to be _kept_ private. The fishnet lingerie hid no secrets.

"Charles, Finn," I add, "Cordelia is looking a little lonely up there. Put on a good show, will you?" I almost had sounded bored with the idea.

They marched up the stage, each taking a side of her that they began ravishing with their mouths from her neck to her collarbone.

"I think I plan on overthrowing my Father once I enter the Ministry. I want to see the bastard lose it all, right before his eyes," Nott suddenly grumbled into his drink. It had been the sixth glass since I arrived on top of Merlin-knows how many he'd started the day with.

"My friend, I know _exactly_ what you mean," I agreed humbly.

"He's a soft cunt, honestly. They're all sitting pretty up in the Ministry for now, but when the Dark Lord eventually returns, they'll be scampering silly," he continued. "We're the ones who are ready, Malfoy. The ones who can take their place and bring our kind to where we belong."

My sense of comfort very quickly withered away.

_A rapist and a racist, with daddy issues._

"Cheers to that," I raise my glass.

Charles was on his knees before Cordelia, hooking one of her legs over his shoulder as his mouth latched onto her centre. Finn stood behind, wrapping his arms around to squeeze and torture her breasts. Cordelia's face was one of an out-of-body experience as they both pleasured her at once.

It was far more of a show than any of these Masters and Mistresses had seen. One with slaves enduring sexual _passion_ and dominance out of the norm of utter submission and compliance. I could tell they secretly yearned to be involved as Pansy and Blaise salivated over them. It appeared that Astoria and Daphne were taking action on their boredom as they walked off to a four-poster bed with their many male and female slaves.

Their parents were rather quiet figures in the Wizarding World. They'd opened a Bed and Breakfast as they'd always dreamed, then added the slaves and accidentally made a Brothel and Breakfast. Now, Daphne and Astoria were products of royal treatment and entitlement at the establishment.

"Draco, what are they doing?" Pansy slipped, watching in astonishment as my three slaves engaged in a sexy heat. Her long, dark-red nails hung from her lip.

"We have our own kind of specialties," I say to her.

"What kind of specialties?"

"The ones where I don't just get what I want every time I bloody ask for it, Pansy," and with a demonstration, I shift Hermione down, so she was belly-up over my lap. She let her neck loll back onto the armrest and I ran my fingers from the point of her chin, down her chest, between her perfectly mounded breasts and navel before leaving it to hang right above her clit.

Pansy shuddered.

"I don't need to eat a cunt out to feel better," Blaise snorted, "I just want them to look like _that_ ," he gestured to Cordelia's 'o' face.

She'd been brought down to her knees, having a male's tongue and lips on her breasts and parting the folds of her vagina. With that, she let out pitchy moans of excitement as though she was in her own world.

"I'm afraid you won't find it just by shoving your wuss of a cock in them, Blaise," I mused, cupping Hermione's breast firmly. Pansy and Nott joined me in a chorus of laughter.

_I'll always be their true leader. Hermione was right…_

She squirmed beneath me as I kneaded them.

"Think of it this way," I continued, letting my hands stream down to the lower end of her body, dipping between her thighs, "you can make your slave do _whatever you want, whenever you want_ ; you can fuck them senseless day in and day out, and they have no power to do otherwise… I don't particularly find any fun in that" I huffed. I'd begun stroking the lips of her pussy, using the pads of four of my fingers to rub in formatted circles. She was breathing heavier beneath my touch, keeping her eyes closed as she laid back and enjoyed it. "By stimulating your slaves, they are fully at your mercy. You can watch them _unravel_. Make them beg for more… It's a rather _intoxicating_ experience."

I let the ideas float in their minds. No doubt, the three were thinking it over judging by the looks on their distracted faces.

Hermione whimpered.

Nott shifted in his seat, no doubt concealing his hard-on as he imagined her across _his_ lap, moaning under _his_ touch.

I growled, pressing harder into Hermione's clit and she blushed feverishly. With one swift movement, I lift her to me, so her neck was at my mercy, "easy baby girl," I whispered, biting down on it.

"Oh!" she gasped, clenching her eyes tightly shut as I shifted the bodysuit aside and eased my fingers in her.

Merlin have Mercy on my soul, deforming her so publicly like this. I preferred our affairs to be private, to have her _only_ submit before me and to feel her sopping wet core _only_ in front of my eyes.

Still, she held her ground, as she'd insisted that she would earlier.

_"Don't worry about me, Draco, we have to do what we must to preserve ourselves in this world a little longer," she sighed with frustration._

I had been difficult in accepting this plan.

_"We need more time. This is the only way, you must do it. I trust you, Draco," she came up, brushing a fallen chunk of hair from my eyes. I was able to see her pearly, genuine eyes, as they convinced me everything was going to be okay._

Hermione began to clench around my fingers, coming quickly towards an orgasm. I hadn't meant to get her there and not like this.

I hated doing it, but out of anxiety I looked up to find Nott, wondering if he still had eyes on his dream slave-girl, or the threesome performed on stage. To no surprise, he was watching us.

She came, crying into my shoulder as she contained her reaction by squeezing her thighs into my hips, stabilising her shaking.

I pulled myself back into character, sharing a deviously impressed snarl with Hermione as she fell limp from my lap. It showed just how she supposedly stroked my ego as I was the one to bend her to my wishes.

Almost bored looking, I suck at my fingers like her cum was in my way and paid no more attention to her as she collapsed onto me.

No short of Hermione, I looked up to the stage where Cordelia's screams pulled the crowd's attention.

Internally, I was nauseous and felt on the brink of passing out. Cordelia had done so much for me, and I couldn't bare watching her put her body on display like that, whether the offered or not. I didn't want to play any part in reminding them of who they were… None of them.

As she too, orgasmed before an audience of Purebloods, I looked away.

Cordelia fell onto Charles in Finn, and together they made a pile of sweaty, half-naked people ready to fall asleep and rest their aching muscles.

"My, Draco, I have to say you're incredibly naughty, aren't you?" Pansy giggled as she enjoyed the finale of their _show_.

I smirk, bringing a glass to my lips and feeling the burning firewhiskey slip down my throat. It was taking some of the edge off, but not nearly enough. "I've had to find some way to entertain myself, haven't I?" I note.

"I suppose. If you really wanted _that_ kind of satisfaction, you knew I was an owl away. Perhaps, you'd be willing to share some more of your secrets with me," she egged me on, biting her lip.

I narrowed my eyes faintly, "that's quite an offer, Pansy. Unfortunately, as far as I'm concerned, if I want to be Minister behind my Father, it'd be highly inappropriate of me to be caught in a casual rendezvous with other Purebloods until an official arranged engagement is made."

Pansy shut her trap quickly. I could see the disappointment in her eyes, but overall understanding. Our world as Purebloods may be more _relaxed_ on proper etiquette, but in the eyes of the Prophet and its readers, sloppy affairs were still frowned upon between our own.

"Granger, my glass is empty, get me another," I frowned at the cup, twisting it between my fingers.

She managed to peel herself from my lap, and with the wobbly legs of a newborn deer, she walked off to the bar. I watched her hips sway more rhythmically as she found her footing.

_Fuck I loved that bodysuit far too much, it was unhealthy. If only I didn't have to share it with them._

She carried back to me, an expensive brand of rum. I assumed the Firewhisky had been drank dry by Blaise already. Perhaps even Daphne, she definitely wasn't shy with dark liquors.

As her heels made one last click before she reached the side of my chair, she popped the cork delicately, and poured the rum.

"Thank you, dear," I simply say with a cock of my eyebrow as I ease her back across my lap. "You know what I like," I whisper to her, though loud enough to be made out by close eavesdroppers. She curled against me, pulling aside my clothes where she trailed kisses from my shoulder up to my ear.

Blaise stiffens, rolling his knuckles in his fist.

"I've got to be fucking mental," he says with a disbelieving eye-roll as he stands and beckons for one of his slave girls. A caramel-headed girl in a red lingerie set waddles over daintily in her heels – Brooke, I think her name was – and Blaise takes her by her hand. "This better work, Malfoy," he leaves me one last smirk, as though daring me to come clean with my so-called joke.

I hear the sound of Nott placing another empty glass down. He was drunk.

"Oh, fuck me, Malfoy, I don't think I should put my hands on another slave," he strained, rubbing his temples.

I'm struck by surprise, and feel Hermione react against me too. Neither of us expected these words to come from _his_ lips.

"This newer bitch, _Dahlia_ , is knocked up with some poor bastard," he chuckled amusedly to himself.

My throat runs dry and itchy and my face was flushed with sensations of heat and ice.

"Pregnant?" I stutter.

He sings a hum with a smile, "yep, we're having her sent away to keep it quiet from the Prophet."

Hermione can no longer bring herself to continue kissing me and only tries to attempt to keep her face buried in the crook of my neck. I felt the cool hiss of her tears falling onto me.

All too overwhelmingly, I cannot be here anymore.


	16. Apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Authors Note

Dear Readers, 

I appreciate all the enthusiastic comments and ongoing support that I have received from this fic since my last update. It means a lot my work was read and appreciated.

However, this is an apology not only for the lack of updates but an announcement that I will be deleting this fanfiction. I am normally a thorough planner and this fic was something I came up with on the spot per chapter and bullied myself into posting so I’d have live content and not just 30+ work in progresses sitting on my laptop. I don’t think this is a well polished fanfiction and truly there is so much wrong with it from my point of view. 

Don’t be afraid, as I have begun a heavy editing and replanning process so this fic can make its proper return. I personally found the character development to be rushed and inconsistent, most times unreasonably unnecessary and I don’t think you all deserve that. In the mean time I’ll be posting short fics to keep myself actively writing and getting some of my own inspiration off my back - the right way, this time. I’m also in progress of writing a handful of larger fics that I’m excited to publish eventually, including one huge slow burn that’s to die for. I hope you’ll join me then as a better writer. 

Until next time,   
Thebookworm121


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